The Last Stand of Dice Quaid
by Captain Campion
Summary: What happened after Dice dropped off Yuji & Marlene? Here's a hint: the Blue, goat herders, Second Earth, Amick Hendar, guns, and a faulty gas gauge. Pull up a chair...this is going to take some explaining...
1. The End is the Beginning

**1.** **_The End is the Beginning_**

_So this is how it ends…_

Dice Quaid was a big man with broad shoulders, and muscles everywhere. Yet he felt oh so very helpless.

He realized that all his strength, all his past experience in the Second Earth Military, and all of the skill he had been forced to learn as a survivor on the wasteland that was Earth, had not kept him from being tossed about by events like a drowning man in the surf.

_And so this is it._

He had survived all the drop operations during all those years as a soldier and Armor Shrike pilot. He had survived in his isolated cabin in his own little corner of an Earth overrun by Blue. He had survived driving Yuji and Marlene across half of dead Russia.

_All so that it could end—what—in a gas station?_

_How did it come to this?_

Dice looked around to try and understand exactly what 'here' was.

He was in a small garage. It was empty, of course, like most of the buildings and places on post-Apocalyptic Earth. What the Blue hadn't smashed or eaten the scavengers and looters had carried off.

Still, this particular station had had exactly what he had needed. And after all he had gone through…the gun fights…the return trip to Second Earth…the Blue Nest…the blimp ride…blasted shuttles and Shrike fights…after all that he was going to die in a garage.

He tried to shake his head in disgust but he spotted movement from outside the window. Someone had darted between a big rock and an overturned, burned out truck. Probably someone trying to get a better sniping spot.

Dice felt like a caged rat.

Still, he was not alone in that cage.

Quaid glanced about the garage.

The kid_—everyone was a kid to Dice—_with the spiked blonde hair and the nose ring was trying to peak out one of the side windows. Probably wanted to get a handle on exactly what they were up against.

_You don't want to know kid. _

Then there was the red headed woman in the lab coat. She was alternating looks between the kid with the punk rock hair cut and the rear window.

_More of 'em out there, too, honey._

Then there was Elena. She was the smartest of the bunch because she was crouched behind a desk.

Dice hoped that a bullet from one of the humans got her. She didn't deserve to be wrapped into a meat dumpling when the Blue got there. Hell, he didn't deserve that either.

_Hope the damn things choke on me._

Still, Elena had been through so much. It was only—what?—less than a couple of weeks ago when she had thought Yuji was going to ride off into the sunset with her. In that time she had not only had her heart broken, she had been kidnapped and shot at and learned that her father was not exactly who he had always claimed to be.

The poor girl had had enough misery.

More movement from outside. Dice crouched down behind the window pane, steadied his rifle, and looked.

He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't a sniper or a Blue. Just another one of them goats got loose. The bell around its neck jingled and jangled as it trotted across the soon-to-erupt battlefield.

_Lamb chops…mmm…_

Still, in between the mound of jagged red rock to the left, the overturned tanker truck in the middle and the scattered boulders in front there had to be a good dozen men.

On the other side by the fenced off motor pool area and junk yard there might have been another dozen.

Dice was not sure if they were going to start shooting at him first or each other. He know which he would prefer…but he figured they would—

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The first volley of bullets smashed windows, chipped away chunks of wall, and sent all of the occupants to the floor with their hands over their heads.

The _rat-tat-tat_ of the machine gun continued for several seconds. The rounds whizzed overhead.

Elena screamed. Dice wasn't sure, but he thought he might have, too.

_Man, I hope none of these ladies heard that._

Then came a very heavy _thump._ The bullet that caused that sound was no ordinary round. It was an explosive shell from an Armor Shrike.

That explosive shell did just that—exploded—against the rear of the building. The wall there shook and one of the cross beams holding the not-so-stable roof in place slipped to the floor. A cloud of dust billowed through the station.

Dice crawled to the rear. The bullets—from both sides and out front—stopped.

For the moment.

There was a rear door there. Dice managed to open it a hair, barely enough to look to the rear of the garage.

Back there was little more than wasteland and the rotting corpses of cars and trucks left over from the days when the garage had been part of a larger fuel depot.

There was, of course, an Armor Shrike back there. It was one of the new Heavy Duty types. It looked very lethal. The man in its cockpit was pretty much pissed off.

At Dice.

The Shrike had, of course, loudspeakers.

"Dice! Come out of there now! I owe you!"

Silence followed the voice from the Shrike. That silence was broken by more voices. Those voices came from the front.

"Dice! You come out _here!"_

And…

"No! He's ours! He double crossed us!"

Quaid crawled away from the back door and moved toward the front. As he did, a new sound broke the silence.

He recognized the sound.

_Now what?_

It was the sound, of course, of an air ship. A Second Earth Air Ship.

He heard the retro jets fire and then the soft crunch of springs as the landing gear touched ground. That, of course, was followed by the sound of a ramp opening then the gentle whir of the wheels of another Armor Shrike.

Dice dared a look through the front windows.

It was a kind of Armor Shrike he had never seen before. Two big appendages above its head, like razors. Or edges. Two of them.

You might even say it had double edges.

A voice boomed from that Armor Shrike as well.

"Attention groundlings. This is Amick Hendar of Second Earth. The criminal Dice Quaid is to be handed over to me this instant or I shall take him by force."

Dice placed a hand over his eyes.

"Who is that?" The 'kid' with the spiked hair asked.

"Who's that?" Dice repeated the question. "That, kid, is what it sounds like when your past catches up to you."

"W-wait a sec," the girl in the lab coat stuttered. "What are we going to do?"

Dice sighed. He hated being the bearer of bad news.

"Well, missy, I'm hoping we take a few bullets pretty soon."

Elena, from behind the desk, was aghast.

"Hoping we take bullets? Why would you hope that?"

"Um, hehe, uh, well you see, do you feel that little hint of a vibration in the floor? Listen real close and maybe you can feel it. I've been feeling it for a few minutes now."

The girl in the lab coat guessed: "The-the Blue are coming? Why? Why?"

"Oh now Missy, you're a real brainiac, aren't you? You gotta know the Blue just love an all-you-can-eat set up like this. Ahh well, I hope none of you were count'in on living forever cause the long and the short of it is that we've all had our last meals."

Dice carefully, cautiously slid to his feet in a corner near the front of the room while the rest of his trapped brethren sat with shocked faces. Sat and contemplated death from explosive shells, death from bullets, or death from Blue.

_Take your pick, kiddies._

Dice ran a hand over his head. He was sweating. No big surprises there.

He glanced down to his feet and there it was, the centerpiece of all his problems; the focus of all his misery ever since he had dropped Yuji and Marlene at the forest rim not far from Baikonur.

It was a simple five gallon gas container.

The problem was that it was empty.

_How did I get here again? Oh yeah, I remember now…_


	2. Tangent

**2. _Tangent_**

After delivering Yuji and Marlene to the forest outside of Baikonur space base, Dice Quaid had turned his car around to head toward…where?

There was nothing left for him at the old supply depot. Nothing but memories. Memories he had lived with for several years. Memories that had not only haunted his life, but controlled it.

Like Captain Ahab and Moby Dick, Dice Quaid had lived his life for revenge. Or, at least, had lived too much of his life for revenge.

Quaid had satiated his hunger for vengeance when he had dispatched the massive Land Whale type Blue that had taken away so much of his life…so much of his heart.

Unlike that famous literary Captain, Dice had lived beyond his revenge to face…what? To face a more daunting challenge than his thirst for revenge. To face the idea of living again.

After spending the night sleeping in his car—an open air jeep—Dice had contemplated his next move. That move had to be wrapped around finding a means of survival. He had lived off the food, fuel, and water of the supply depot for a long time. Without that depot he was going to have to grow, scavenge or heist the things he needed to live.

He was not going to find those things in the open wasteland of what had once been Russia. He also knew he did not want to head west or north. Both of those direction would take him toward what had been larger population centers.

Those areas were still population centers, but not for men. They had become the feeding grounds of The Blue; the voracious, gigantic insect-like monsters that had chased mankind from the surface of the planet.

The Blue ate everything with a particular love of artificial substances, such as houses and cars and bridges and Quik-E-Marts. Oh yes, they also liked to kill human beings, roll them into 'meat dumplings' and save them for a late-night snack.

No, the major population centers of Eurasia would not be the best places to hope for survival. Yet Dice knew he was going to have to find somewhere where humans used to live. Somewhere where he could find canned goods and drinking water for short term survival, then growing seeds to plant his own crops.

The result? Dice Quaid returned in the direction he had come. Or, rather, sort of. Instead of heading directly east, he headed southeast. His hope was to push through the wastelands of the Kazakhstan steppes and make it to the mountainous regions of southern Asia. Perhaps he could find a peaceful enclave in those mountains that would be hospitable to agriculture and hunting yet isolated enough to avoid the Blue (and the soldiers of Second Earth).

Unbeknownst to Dice, as he set off at dawn for the first stage of his new life, Yuji and Marlene were dodging fire from an automaton attacker on the outskirts of the space base.

In contrast, Dice cruised along at a nice clip for several hours, undisturbed by Blue or bad thoughts. Indeed, Quaid found himself deep in thought about the prospects of his new life. A new life that he embraced enthusiastically in no small part thanks to the jolt of energy he had received from being around Yuji and Marlene.

Those two crazy kids, Dice realized, were in love they just didn't know it yet. He hoped they lived long enough to find out. For some reason or another he was confident that they would.

In any case, his jeep kicked up a plume of dust as he rolled across the steppes of Kazakhstan. He saw no signs of man's old civilization. Even in the old days—the days before the Blue Apocalypse—this had not been a highly populated area.

Indeed, after three hours of driving he was still in the middle of nowhere.

That realization threw Dice from his dreams of quiet gardens and peaceful redoubts.

He leaned forward in his driver seat. The car appeared to be functioning just fine. No sign of Blue. It was possible that his luck was finally changing.

"Yep, and looky here," Dice spoke out loud to himself. "Still got…what? Three quarters a tank of gas."

Dice eased back in his seat and smiled to himself.

_This is going just fine. Already off to a great start. Still got plenty of gas…yep…after three hours…hey…wait a sec…_

His face knotted into a look of confusion as he remembered that when he had dropped Yuji and Marlene off he had checked the tank. It had been three quarters full. That had been hours ago. Hours of driving. Driving fast.

A sense of dread flooded into his body and drown away the happy thoughts.

He kept one hand on the wheel. With his other hand he slowly… cautiously…reached one finger toward the analog gas gauge on the dash board. His fingertip hovered there for a moment then, with a cringe, he tapped the glass.

The needle that had been stuck on the three-quarters mark plummeted. Fast. It blew past half full, fell like a rock beneath the one-quarter tank level, and didn't come to rest until it was actually under the "E" for empty symbol.

_I have less gas than empty?_

"Huh. Looks like I'm running low on—"

PHFFAAAT. KNOCK-KNOCK. PLUNK.

All power drained from the engine.

The jeep coasted forward across those empty, barren, lonely steppes in the middle of a dead continent. The speedometer hovered then began to drop nearly as fast as the fuel gauge needle had. The plume of dust kicked from the wheels thinned less…less…nothing.

The car came to a dead halt in the middle of a wide open stretch of land with nothing but open air and vacant grassland all around.

"Oh crap."

-

The first thing Dice Quaid did when he realized he had run out of gas in the middle of inhospitable wasteland was have a smoke. He sat in the jeep for a good ten minutes savoring one of the last of his homemade cigs. It just seemed like the thing to do.

While the pleasure centers of his brain reacted to the satiation of his minor addiction, the rest of his mind contemplated his next move. From what he could tell, he was surrounded by a whole lot of nothing.

To the west and northwest, he knew, there were only the same monotonous plains of dust and grassland. To his north, a few major cities that had long ago kicked out the old human tenants and replaced them with the Blue. He figured there was probably a nice supply of gasoline, canned food, and other survival needs in some of those cities. He also knew that he'd last all of five minutes if he dared trespass.

_Then again, old Dicey-boy, you're probably only going to last another five hours out here in this heat, what with one more good swig of water left in that canteen._

Far off to the east—way in the horizon—was an imposing mountain range. To the southeast (the direction he had been traveling) there was something that might be of use.

It was a highway. Or, rather, a cracked, pothole-ridden, dead-car littered stretch of fading concrete that had past for a highway in the days when Kazakhstan had held more people than buzzards. Now it became a vein of hope for Dice Quaid.

A plan came to mind. He would follow that road to some small, abandoned town. There he would find food stuffs and, of course, a well-stocked gas station. He'd fill up his can and then make his way back to the car. Those five gallons would then be enough fuel to drive to that same gas station and fill up the rest of the tank.

And put some grease on the damn fuel gauge needle, too.

Dice had smiled to himself. It was good to have a plan. Then he had grabbed the empty, rectangular five-gallon emergency fuel container from the rear of the Jeep, slung his rifle over his shoulders, and marched toward the southeast…toward that life line…as he put his well-conceived plan into notion.

-

"God damn it! God damn it!"

Dice fired his rifle again. The shot found the exposed core on the front of the monstrous Blue. This particular one was of the same type as the other three carcasses that laid motionless and oozed gore outside the gas station; it was a Chopper.

It looked like a cock roach with scythe-like mandibles. It was also about the size of a commuter bus.

The Chopper slumped to the ground with red chum flowing from its obliterated core—the only weak spot on an otherwise armor-plated body. If you lived on the surface of the Earth in those days you learned a certain knack for hitting Blue core…or you didn't 'live' for long on the surface of the Earth.

The town Dice had found was little more than an oversized rest stop along side that cracked and littered slab of concrete. Yet in its day the town (a sign called it "Chelkar") had been home to a decent-sized population.

Dice knew this because only towns with decent-sized populations warranted a full blown Blue nest.

Fortunately that nest was on the far side of town. Unfortunately the clip of ammunition Dice had expended to protect himself had produced enough sound to echo across the otherwise silent landscape.

Blue, Dice knew, were always listening for sounds. The sound of vehicles, the sound of voices, the sound of machinery, and especially the sound of gun fire. All of those sounds meant humans were somewhere nearby. And while Dice Quaid did not understand all of the complexities of the Blue's rise to prominence on the Earth, he did understand that the damn things existed for one reason: exterminate mankind.

Dice hurried to the gas station that sat nestled among a series of small shops and grocery stores a few hundred yards off the highway. The town of Chelkar—rather, the broken and burnt ruins of what had once been a small, quaint town—stretched off to the east and north. The streets that had once been home to cars and children and families were now home to wrecks and big green balls nicknamed 'meat dumplings.'

Dice knew that within those globs were people. Sometimes just one, sometimes two or three rolled together. They were dead, of course—well beyond any hope of salvation. Eventually when the Blue got tired of eating concrete and glass they would start snacking on the dumplings.

In any case, Dice put aside his thoughts of the looming Blue nest and the long-dead people and raced to the gas pumps, tank in one hand and his rifle stowed over his shoulder.

The pumps were empty.

_That just screws the pooch now don't it?_

Dice closed his eyes and listened to the wind rattle over the splintered and twisted roof tops. In the distance, far off, he could hear the footsteps of Blue marching forward from their nest.

He breathed in deep, exhaled in a sigh, grabbed the gas can, and hurried off at a fast jog. He then followed the high way further to the south east.

Stage one of the plan had come up short. Yet he rationalized that if he were lucky he might find another town. Somewhere…with gas…

-

Another town, another swarm of Blue. This time instead of simply retreating, Dice ran. Well, he fired and ran. He fired and ran away from the so-called highway and away from his hopes of finding some monument to civilization hat might hold the answers to his problems.

He ran into the mountains. More specifically, he found a path that rose away from the barren steps and into the charcoal and green mountain range that sprouted from the landscape like the crest of a wave over a calm sea.

Fortunately, the Blue were no longer in pursuit. Either they considered him not worth the trouble or Dice had managed to blast the last of the pursuers that were aware of his proximity. Good thing, too, because he was down to the last of his bullets. About the only weapon he had left was the empty gas can and he was more inclined to start banging that over his own head.

So he climbed into the mountains. He was not exactly sure what he was hoping to find, but water would be a good start. He had downed that last swig from his canteen an hour prior.

If that weren't bad enough, Dice knew that the sun was entering its last phase as afternoon morphed into evening. It would not be long before there would be nothing but night and stars overhead. That meant it was going to get cold. He had no survival gear, no blankets. He was dressed only in his old, black military tunic and that was short-sleeved.

Nonetheless, he climbed the path into the mountains. There were fields about and rocky cliffs ad well as the occasional small patch of sad-looking forest.

Dice stopped in the middle of an almost tunnel-like gorge of rock on one side and rock again on the other. It was a lonely little passage across the desolate mountain range.

His legs ached, his heart pounded from all the running and walking, and his stomach was so empty it hurt.

He looked around then sat on a round, jagged boulder that poked into his butt yet was the closet thing to a seat he could find. He dropped the gas container and put his face in his hands.

_Well this is it, Dice. This is a good place to die, I suppose. Just sit here and wait for night. It'll get cold and freezing to death is a lot better than being crunched into a meat dumpling. Dying won't be fun, but it don't seem like I've got anything better to do._

He sat with his eyes covered and listened. He listened to the distant whip of the wind as it cut across the mountain range. He heard the soft jingle of a…huh?

Soft jingle?

Dice pulled his eyes from his hands.

The jingle grew louder. A hollow jingle. More like a light clang. Maybe even a distorted ring.

Something was moving on the path ahead. It came around a bend past a batch of dead thickets. In the dark it was hard to make out…hard to see…

It was a goat.

There was a bell around its neck. A bell affixed to a collar. It jingled, clanged, and otherwise rang as the animal hobbled along.

"Bahhh."

The creature stopped in front of Dice. A piece of torn rope was attached to that collar as well.

"Well hello there, dinner."

Dice's first inclination, of course, was to eat the goat. However, his mind made the obvious connection. This animal was part of a herd. It had gotten away from that herd. If he retraced its steps maybe he would find people. If he found people they might have water and blankets and, yes, goats to eat.

Dice smiled.

"Well howabout that?" he said to the goat.

"Baahhh."

Dice took his gas can in one hand and the goat's leash in the other. He then continued along the mountain path in the direction the goat had come.

Half and hour later he found the goat's home.

There was a camp nestled on a grassy plateau in the midst of the mountains. It was a camp of horses and sheep and goats; of tents and people.

The camp fires were just starting as darkness swept away the last flickers of day light. However, those camp fires had apparently not been the only fires.

Several of the tents were damaged, some by fire others had simply been torn down. Some of the live stock had been slaughtered, too and more than one of the cloth-dressed humans of the camp wore bandages or slings.

This camp was recovering from an attack. No doubt that attack had been the reason the goat had managed to get free.

"Um…he…hey! Hey there!"

Dice waved from the bank above the bowl-like stretch of field where the wounded camp was based. Several of the humans down there—there were a couple of dozen—scattered and ran. Two others raised rifles and raced to intercept the newcomer.

"Hey! Easy does it! I'm a friend! Don't shoot! Right? I brought your goat back…"

While the two armed campers carefully approached Dice and the goat, a third man—much older—moved to join the welcoming party. Quaid took a few tentative steps down the embankment. One hand held the goat's leash, the other held the gas can far out from his body so that the jumpy goat herders knew he was not reaching for the rifle slung over his shoulder.

Between what remained of the sun overhead and what emanated from the camp fires there was barely enough light for Dice to recognize these people. And barely enough light for them to recognize him.

"We know this man," the elder said calmly. "You are the one for whom Yuji left our caravan and broke my daughter's heart."

"Huh? Oh, hey, yeah, you guys are with Elena's group, right? Sure. Boy, isn't it just something for us to meet up again like this? Seems like it was just meant to be."

Dice smiled hopefully.

The guns aimed at his noggin.

One of the rifle wielding men had jet black hair and a scar on his cheek. He spoke to the older man with an edge in his voice that gave Dice the creeps.

"We should kill him. He's nothing but trouble.'  
"Oh, now, no I'm not. See? Yeah, that's right, I brought your goat back. Why don't we all just be friends like?"

The older man rested his hand on the edgy guy's rifle and gently pushed it downward.

"This man is not our enemy, Daven. We have had enough violence today and he has brought home a wayward member of our flock."

Daven would have preferred to have shot Dice, but he followed the elder's orders and backed off.

The other man also lowered his rifle then took the goat from Dice's care.

"Say, ah, like I don't mean to be ungrateful for not shooting me and all, but, I mean, you got any eats?"

-

Dice took another big bite of flat bread and washed it down with a cup of meade. He knew the night was cold but the flames of the fire offered a circle of heat that warmed the very marrow in his bones.

Elena's father sat at the fire as did Daven and a handful of others. The nomads had been thankful for the return of their goat, thankful enough to share their food and drink and conversation.

Dice continued that conversation while chewing a big chunk of bread. His empty gas container sat next to him as if it might too enjoy the warmth of the fire.

"So, ah, the fellas who roughed you up. Where they the same guys that had the mech before? The ones Yuji chased away? What was that all about?"

Elena's father was named Jordan. There was no denying that he was the patriarch of the simply clan. An elder wise man who spoke quietly and with great weight.

Jordan answered.

"The thugs who assaulted our caravan were not the same as the mercenaries who attacked us a few days ago. No, they were a different breed."

"Oh, yeah, different breed," Dice in an off-hand manner as his maw clomped down on another chunk of bread.

"Say, uh, I haven't seen, uh, Elena around since I got here. Is she holding up okay? Real shame about what happened with Yuji and all."

Dice continued to eat and drink. He was so absorbed by his hunger that it took several long seconds before he realized no one had answered. He lifted his head out from the food in his hands and looked around the camp fire.

Jordan's eyes were cast low. The others were silent, too.

"Huh? What'd I say?"

"Mister Quaid, they took my daughter. They took my precious Elena."

"What? Who took her?"

"The men who attacked our camp earlier today. They kidnapped her."

Dice's appetite sunk.

There were many things to be said of Dice Quaid. He was loud, he drank too much, and often times he did not take life seriously enough. Maybe that was because the way he figured it, he should have died a long time ago. Every minute he still breathed breath was another added bonus.

But he was not heartless.

That Elena, she had seemed like a very nice girl. And while he had known from the start that she was not the right fit for Yuji (Marlene was the right fit for Yuji if only the knucklehead would figure it out!), she was sweet and nice and had a good heart. He had seen that right away. Just as he had seen right away that Marlene Angel was not as lacking of a heart as she had seemed.

"Man, oh man, why would some fellas want to go and do that?"

Daven answered quickly with that same edge in his voice. An edge that was highly suspicious of one Dice Quaid.

"What do you care? It's none of your concern."

Jordan answered before Dice could take too much offense.

"The men who attacked us, they work for Vladimir Zhukov. He is a bad man. A cold man. He is also a powerful man. He has a home and many weapons and several men who work under him."

"Vladimir Zhukov…hmm…" Dice rolled the name around on his tongue. It did not summon any memories.

"Never heard of him. Guess I don't know everybody yet."

"You don't want to know Zhukov," Elena's father said in a voice that belied the concern of a father. "He is a dangerous man. There is no way we could fight such a man. We have but a few guns and none of my people are trained soldiers. We are but…we are but simple goat herders and nomads."

"Yep," Dice scratched his head. "You all got it real nice around here. Except, of course, um, for your daughter getting kidnapped and all. Say, why do you think this Vladimir guy went and did that?"

Jordan shared a look with Daven, then returned his eyes to Quaid.

"Zhukov has a son, about the same age as Elena. I believe he plans to force her to marry him."

Dice's face corkscrewed at the very thought.

"What? Well, now, that just isn't right at all."

"No, Mr. Quaid, it is not right. I'm glad you feel that way."

"Huh?"

Suddenly Dice felt somewhat ill at ease.

Jordan turned to those around the campfire.

"Leave us. I have things to discuss with our guest. Things to discuss that are only for his ears."

Almost all of those around the campfire left. The remaining chunk of bread in Dice's hand and his cup were gently taken from him by one of the young ladies. Dice had a look akin to a puppy dog seeing the promise of a treat revoked.

Still, he did not voice his protest.

Jordan turned to the only one of his people still remaining, Daven.

"You too, Daven."

The man with the scar stood in fashion that clearly demonstrated anger.

"You're not thinking of asking him to..? That's a mistake. You shouldn't involve him in our affairs. He's an outsider."

"Enough," Jordan raised his hand while his word carried more force than any he had spoken previously.

"This is none of your affair Daven. You are new to our group. Go and get some sleep."

Dice sat quietly while Daven struggled to control his anger then stomped off.

"Seems like he's a little fired up, there, huh?" Dice said.

"He's an asshole," Elena's father said plainly.

Dice shrugged and admitted, "Yeah, well, he might be right and all. I suppose your business is your business and I shouldn't be sticking my—"

"Can you rescue my daughter?"

"Huh?"

The elder man's eyes looked upon Dice Quaid with sadness and hope all rolled together.

"Mr. Quaid, you are a man of violence. I mean no offense, understand."

"Oh, hey, yeah, none taken. I suppose I am a man of, well, violence. Not of my choosing, you know?"

"Yes, but you are or at least you were a soldier. You are strong and I would imagine that you have a warrior's wisdom. I ask you now…I plead with you…can you sneak into Zhukov's home and save my daughter from a forced marriage? Would you do this for an old man? I know…I know that as much as Yuji chose the blonde haired scary woman over my lovely daughter, I know he would still wish you to help us."

Dice scratched his chin.

"Well, huh, I guess you're right on that. But here's the thing, it's sorta like this. My plan is to keep on heading south east and find myself some where to hold up in the hills or something. I mean, the only reason I even bumped into you guys is because I ran out of gas."

Dice wrapped his arm around the empty gas container as if he were giving an old buddy a hug. He added a polite chuckle at the end of his sentence.

While Dice and Jordan sat along in the ring of light around the fire, Daven watched from the shadows. He watched with a glaring eye cast at Dice Quaid and a nervous tremble in his hands.

He glanced left then right then pulled a small device from under his hand-wove cloth tunic. The device was a transmitter.

Daven worked the switch. He used the palm of his hand to shield the glow of the red power light from any prying eyes. Fortunately most of the eyes that might pry were off singing folks songs or making preparations for a night's sleep.

The man with the scar on his face spoke into the transmitter.

"This is hidden goose calling rooster's nest. Come in rooster's nest."

Daven had to repeat his call several more times before a static-filled voice answered.

"This is rooster's nest. Go ahead, um, hidden duck."

"Goose."

"Go ahead hidden goose."

"We've got a problem. There's a new player in town. Someone we'd better reign in real fast."

While Daven held his clandestine conversation, Dice and Elena's father finished their discussion.

"I know where you can find some gas, Mr. Quaid. I know of a hidden depot not too far from here. I'll even give you one of our horses to speed your journey. But only if you save my Elena first. Save her from this brute."

"Look, uh, I'd really like to help. Sure I would. Nobody likes to be the hero more than me. But the way you describe this Zhukov fella, well it sound to me like you're gunna need a squad of Mechs and air support to get past his guys. And I've got a whole new plan on life; that is, I'd like to keep on living it as long as I can, you see?"

Dice could tell that the man—the father—could not see. The elder's fists clenched and his face turned red. Jordan stood.

Daven watched from the shadows. He had not heard most of the conversation but he did hear the older man's voice.

"Go. Go now. Don't let us keep you any longer from your plan. It sounds very clever this plan of yours. I hope it works for you. Good luck."

Daven nearly growled in anger. The old man had brought this outsider in. No doubt this Dice Quaid was not above a little mercenary work.

"Well you won't get your chance, Mr. Quaid," Daven muttered to himself.

Dice stood, grabbed his gas can, and walked away from the fire.

"Why you don't waste any time, do you?" Daven whispered again.

Dice walked away from the warmth of the fire and into the night.

-

The good news for Dice was that he had a full belly. The bad news was that he was back out in the cold and in desperate need of finding shelter for the night. He had already wandered through the mountainside for an hour with no sign of good shelter.

A few minutes prior he had heard what had sounded like a vehicle engine. But the acoustics of the jagged rock peaks and rolling hills conspired to hide the source from his ears.

He turned a bend in a lonely path and walked among a field of boulders.

"This is just great, Dice. Just great. What have you gone and done to yourself?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure jumped out at him on the path ahead. That figure held a flash light and shined it right in Dice's eyes.

"Hey, whoa, easy with that light there…"

"You're something else, Quaid. The old man sends you off to rescue Elena and you don't even wait the night to get started. You must be really good to head off toward Zhukov's with nothing but on rifle and a gas can. You must be a god damn super soldier."

"Um? Huh?"

Dice heard a noise from behind. In the split second between when his mind yelled _trap!_ and his body turned to look he felt a sharp electric jolt in his ribs.

His muscles grew weak, his legs wobbled, and a the lights went out as a heavy burlap bag was shoved over his head.


	3. Vladimir

**3. _Vladimir_**

Dice did not know how long he was unconscious or—even after he had woken—how long he spent inside the dark confines of a burlap sack. No one spoke to him, his hands were bound, and the bag blocked all light.

The only thing he was sure of was that he was moved.

When he first came too he realized he was inside a vehicle of some kind, probably a small car. He could hear the engine, smell the exhaust, and feel the heavy thumps, thuds and assorted sways associated with driving across a post-Apocalyptic Earth.

Once the grogginess had cleared, Dice had tried to speak. His inquiries were greeted with shouts to "shut up" and the occasional punch in the chest or arm.

Then the car had stopped. Dice had been grabbed by two sets of arms and hauled off.

However far he had gone, however long it had taken, whatever the truth there was no doubt that a fair amount of time had past: Dice could feel the warmth of afternoon sun on his uncovered arms.

His ears offered more clues. They had taken him to some kind of community or compound or house or something. A place with lots of people and rooms and stairs. Dice knew this because he could hear voices ("who's that?" "Is that him?" "He don't look so tough!"), because he was guided down stairs and through rooms, because he could smell cooking and because he bumped into furniture on several occasions.

After being pushed, pulled, prodded, and led, Dice finally arrived at his destination. He was forced to kneel on what felt like shaggy yet plush carpeting.

A voice spoke in bad English wrapped in the unmistakable accent of a Kazakh.

"Take that sack off. A man like this must be treated with more…um…the word I want is respect."

The dark vision that had blocked Dice's sight for, at the very least, several hours was removed in a flash. His eyes were flooded with fiery light. He shut them and fought the pain of the brilliance.

"Easy…easy mister…what is his name? Oh yes, easy mister Dice. Your eyes will adjust, of this I am sure. You will see clearly, yes."

Dice's arms were still bound so his only relief was to shut his eyes tight and tilt his head toward the floor. He found the strength to speak, though. Still, he did his best to control his growing anger.

"Someone mind tellin' me why I've been dragged here? I am NOT a happy man."

Quaid sensed that there were several people in the room. He could hear their breathing, could hear their small talk, and he could see blurs hidden within the wall of light that assaulted his eyes.

The Russian's voice was layered with respect.

"You see…this is what I told you. Yes…I told you all…he is so very good. Here he is bound and surrounded with seemingly no—oh, what would be the word?—oh yes, with seemingly no way of escape yet even as we speak he is plotting his move…who to strike first…how to dash from this room."

Dice blinked once, twice…his pupils shrank rapidly to compensate. What had at first felt like a thermonuclear explosion of light slowly, gently eased to normal room lighting.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Dice looked up.

He was in a large, plush living room dressed in white and cream colors. A stone fireplace was against a far wall, bay windows lined one side and afforded a look at a patio and in-ground swimming pool with a large fence beyond, sofas and recliners, a glass coffee table and an entertainment system completed the room's décor.

Dice was, in fact, surrounded by shady looking characters in a collection of outfits. A few wore desert camouflage, a couple wore polyester suits as if they were gangsters left over from the disco era, and a few others were in less noteworthy garb; the patchwork type of clothes worn by the nomads and refugees that populated the Blue-dominated Earth.

Each and every one of the hodgepodge of goons carried a weapon. Machine guns and rifles and high-caliber handguns were all about.

The Russian sat upon a sofa that was draped with a tiger-skin blanket that created such a clash with the upholstery that it nearly blinded Dice's eyes as severely as the shock of sunlight had.

Two men stood behind that sofa on the leader's flanks. One Dice recognized—it was that Daven guy who had been hanging out with Elena's father's band. Dice did not need an advanced degree in reasoned thinking to understand that Daven had certainly been one of the men responsible for the burlap sack.

The other fellow behind the Russian was much younger—probably more a kid and less a man. He had spiked blonde hair that was so dramatically outrageous that it had to have been for the sole purpose of pissing off his father. Just incase the hairdo hadn't done the trick, the boy—probably late teens—had a nose ring to boot.

Daven watched Dice suspiciously. The spiked-haired kid looked bored.

As for the Russian…he wove his fingers together, clenching and unclenching them as he spoke. He was dressed in fine slacks and a silk shirt; his face was hard but the man was trying so very much to hide that hardness—Dice was certain make up was a part of the man's morning routine.

His eyes studied Dice side to side, up and down as he spoke as smoothly as he could for a fellow who had learned English as a second (or third) language.

"What am I talking about?" The Russian repeated Dice's question. "Oh, mister Dice, that is—what would you say now?—oh yes, priceless. That is very priceless."

The man who was in charge stood and strolled—almost strutted—closer to Dice while the latter remained on his knees.

"Mister Dice. You should not have accepted Jordan's offer to come to my home and steal away his daughter. But I respect a man who has courage such as this. I am certain Jordan warned you of our…our…" he struggled for the right word. "…of our strong defenses…yes…strong. No, wait, 'impenetrable!' Yes, that is the word. I am certain Jordan warned you of our _impenetrable_ defenses yet you were coming all the same to save the damsel in distress."

Dice cocked his head as he twirled the man's words around inside his head.

"Wait a sec…hold on," Dice caught up with his surroundings. "You're that Vladimir guy he was talking about, aren't you? I'm right…huh?"

Vladimir smiled a big oily smile, waved his hands in the air in a sign of false humility and conceded, "You are very clever, mister Dice. Not much goes past you, of this I am sure."

"Hey, whoa, hold on then. We got one of those miscommunications. Yeah, really," Dice grinned meekly. "I wasn't coming this way. No sir. I wanted nothing to do with—"

Vladimir Zhukov interrupted his prisoner.

"Fear not, Mister Dice. I have great respect for your talents. This is why you are here in a condition of alive. A man so brave as to single-handedly come to the rescue of the young woman is a man for whom I would have much work."

"Dad," the spiked-haired kid interrupted. "I don't think he was doing it. I think your man Daven here jumped the gun—"

"Silence!" Vladimir interrupted his boy harshly, then calmed his voice and walked to his son.

"You are my son, and I love you so very much. But you are not yet a man. You can not see the courage and…and…and…the courage of a man such as Mister Dice here. Of course, it is my intention to change all this."

Vladimir turned away from his son and spoke to Dice again.

"I apologize. This is my son, Tommy. He is a smart boy. But he is not yet a man. That is part of the reason as to why Jordan's daughter has been brought here. I may very well marry her to my boy, so that he may someday be a man."

Dice smiled again.

"Oh, hey, that's great. Yeah. Congratulations!"

"Dad, I don't want to marry Elena. She does not want to marry me, either. I never met the girl—"

"Silence!"

Vladimir faced his boy once more.

"Perhaps it is time for you to be leaving. Yes. Now is the time for men to speak. Someday you will be able to stay in this—"

Tommy left he room without argument so fast that his father did not have a chance to finish his speech.

Vladimir clasped his hands together then sat again on the sofa.

"Where were we talking? Oh yes, Jordan owes me a great debt and what better way to repay it? Still, I must confess. My boy is not ready to be man. He has much to learn. So I was thinking about possibly killing Elena."

Despite a lack of attachment to the girl, Dice was horrified at the suggestion. This was a woman, he knew, for whom Yuji had felt strongly. An innocent girl that was merely trying to carve out a slice of happiness on Earth for herself and her people. The idea of Vladimir killing her…

"I know, I know, this sounds so harsh," Vladimir admitted with a phony look of regret. "But Jordan's people owe me…owe me…hmmm…they owe me. A man in my position must collect on his debts, you see. I'm sure you do."

"Uh…"

"However! I am very happy that now that you are here I have realized that maybe you could be of help to me and if you are, then I could let Jordan's daughter go free as my gratitude to you. And you too, of course, Mister Dice."

Dice's ears and mind followed along. When he had caught up with Vladimir's circular, confusing words, Dice nodded and said, "Well, that's just fine…but I really wasn't—"

"I have a problem, Mister Dice. As you know—of course you know—anyone surviving planetside these days must be, well, prepared to defend his property. We have done a good job of this with a few of those wonderful Shrikes. Yes, Armored Shrikes. A man such as yourself no doubt has driven just such vehicles in combat, no?"  
"Um…"

"Good, yes, I knew as much. But, I am sorry to say, my Armored Shrikes have run down their power…power…" Vladimir waved his hand around as he tried to find the word, "power…um…power…"

Dice volunteered: "Cells?"

"Yes! Exactly! You are such a very brave and intelligent man! Yes, their power cells!"

Dice tried his best to find a way out.

"Well, that's bad and all but I'm not a mechanic and—"

"So I need you to go get some for me, Mister Dice."

Vladimir stopped speaking for a moment and looked Dice Quaid in the eye. There was no doubt that Vladimir had a great deal of respect for whatever talents he believed Dice held.

"I…um…I see."

"They should be easy to find, of course. There are several at a Second Earth Resource Recovery Station a few miles east of here. Why, I would just like you to go and—what would be the word?—oh yes, go and 'fetch' for me. Could you do that, Mister Dice?"

Dice did not answer right away. Not because he didn't have an answer in mind, but because he had the distinct impression that Vladimir Zhukov was not going to accept 'no' as that answer.

Vladimir continued, "This should be an easy job for someone as talented as you, Mister Dice. Indeed, I'll have you take a couple of my associates along so that they can watch you and learn from a master soldier."

Dice nodded his head.

"Thank you, really, Mister Vladimir, Sir. And, you know, I mean that. I really do. You are too kind."

"It is my pleasure."

"But, see, here's the thing. I wasn't heading this way at all. No sir, I don't want trouble. That's my motto, you know. Stay out of trouble. I'm really not all that good of a soldier. In fact, truth be told I'm really a deserter so I'm not the kind of guy you need for something like this."

Dice painted a brilliant smile on his face, as friendly as he could make it.

Vladimir was not friendly. He looked sad.

"Oh, dear, that is too bad, Mister Dice. Too bad indeed. I suppose that leaves me with no choice. I'll have to kill the young Elena or marry her to my son. As for you…well, if you are of no use to me then…"

Vladimir did not need to finish his sentence. The cold steel of a gun barrel pressed against Dice's temple. The smile on Dice's face faded fast.

There was a long silence.

Dice's smile returned.

"Hey, I'm always up for an adventure. I mean, how bad could it be, right?"

Daven spoke. No, he spat the answer to that.

"Automaton attackers."

"Oh."

Vladimir laughed.

"Not much of a challenge, no doubt, for a man with your talents, Mister Dice."

---

It occurred to Dice that he could overpower Daven and the other fellow—the skinny one with the powder blue sport jacket over black BDU's (a post-Apocalyptic Don Johnson, no doubt)—and take the jeep in which they road.

That must have occurred to the two men, too. They kept Dice handcuffed to the back of the vehicle as it raced across bumpy, barren fields in the shadows of red rock mountains.

They had been driving for more than an hour. Part of that time had been spent hiding in those red rocks from a swarm of flying Blue man-eaters. Fortunately the behemoths had not spotted the humans and had eventually moved on.

Dice, cuffed in the rear of the car, took stock of his situation.

They were on their way to a Second Earth Resource Recovery Station with the aim of snatching spare power cells from the inventory stocks there. Dice had the distinct impression that this was NOT going to be a joint operation. No doubt he was going to be sent in first while the two henchman—including the miserable Daven—stayed at a safe distance with rifles pointed at his back.

As for the station itself, it offered nothing but bad and worse scenarios for Dice.

Resource Recovery Stations were dotted across the surface of the Earth in key locations. Most were at sea, sucking up and de-salting water for transportation to the orbiting space stations that comprised Second Earth.

Some were manned by robotic farmers; some were in rainy environments to harvest water; some were in oil fields and used automated drills to pull fossil fuels from beneath the Earth's surface.

Apparently the one in Vladimir's neighborhood was built into the side of a mountain and was periodically operated to mine an assortment of precious mineral deposits.

The bad scenario for Dice was that the Station was vacant and guarded only by security fields and automaton attackers. The worse scenario was that it was occupied and that the attackers would be waiting along with a platoon of infantry and shrikes. While that might help him escape his captors, it would also deliver him directly into the hands of the Second Earth military. His record of service—or lack thereof—would place him in front of a firing squad rather quickly.

The base itself was built into the side of a mountain face and surrounded by a chain link fence. Between the fence and the main base were several structures including power sub stations and storage facilities, all rather small. Alas, the motor pool—his target--was behind a set of large garage doors that were part of the main building.

This stretch of rock and sand within the perimeter fencing also served as a kill zone for the automatons.

As the jeep approached the outer fence, Dice saw that this was going to be no easy task. Of course he realized that even if he completed the job, it was quite possible that his escorts had no intention of letting him get out alive.

He was, in essence, cannon fodder. Much like he had been in the Second Earth military. The difference here, of course, was that his controllers were more up front about the whole thing. No lies of grand purpose, no pep talks, no assurances of victory.

The jeep came to a halt by the main gate, a gate that had been conveniently left open. Dice, of course, felt this to be strange. In fact, the sight of the open gate made him add a third scenario—call it, the 'very bad' scenario—one being wherein the Blue had penetrated the base. Indeed, the lack of any automatons in view sent a shiver along Dice's back.

"Get out, super man," Daven ordered.

The skinny fellow unlocked the cuffs while Daven kept a rifle aimed at Quaid. The latter did as instructed, rubbing his sore but now free wrists as he moved.

The trio walked to the open gate. Daven and the other guy stopped.

"Okay, Dice, here's the deal. You get in there, take out the attackers, then signal us. Don't go into the motor pool without us, here me?"

Apparently Daven could read minds. Dice had already begun formulating a plan that involved him somehow surviving the robotic sentries and getting hold of one of the base's shrikes, then blasting the two goons to pieces.

"We'll be able to see you from here," the skinny guy displayed a scope on his rifle so as to make his point.

Dice grunted and held his hands in the air in a non-threatening manner.

"Hey, yeah, I'm a team player, right? You don't have to go worrying about me."

Daven motioned toward the base with the front of his rifle, telling Dice to get moving without saying a word.

Quaid, for his part, smiled then turned to face his objective. His smile faded. Somewhere between that maze of sub stations and storage rooms waited several well-armed three-legged automaton attackers; attackers that could shred the largest of the blue to pieces in short order. What they could do to a man…

Dice gulped and marched forward, fully expecting to be dead in seconds. He did know, however, that the robots had one weakness: a thirst for gobs of power. This meant the bots had to stay hooked to long, thick cables that limited their effective range. Furthermore, most resource bases such as that one kept the automatons powered down except when threats were detected.

He marched across the rocky sand. His feet crunched on the ground. That sound seemed to echo all about, suggesting that maybe Dice was the only living, moving thing around for miles.

The front of the base—built into the side of the mountain—grew larger in his eyes. He past the first of several block-like sub stations. His eyes darted from side to side, waiting for the hum and whirl of the attackers; waiting for the laser bolts and metal, pointed slugs to reduce him to goo.

But…he saw…nothing.

He figured Daven and the other idiot had to be watching. Perhaps they were just as surprised that Dice still lived as Dice himself was.

Quaid reached the front door. It was open. He pulled the heavy metal portal open and glanced inside.

A long console rested beneath thick security glass that looked out on the area Dice had just walked across. This had to be, Dice figured, the security station. The control point for the automatons as well as other automatic defenses.

The console had power. He could see blinking lights and monitors. He also saw a control panel marked "Automaton Control."

That panel offered a series of complex buttons and knobs that controlled sensitivity, targeting preferences, power usage, and much more. Dice did not understand any of that.

He did, on the other hand, understand the word "off". Pointing to that word was a big, heavy handle. That handle had another setting called "on."

_Someone switched the attackers off?_

Near that heavy switch sat a small LED display under the words "Automaton Status." The red letters of the display warned: "Armed – Ready."

"Hey Dice!"

Daven's voice called from one hundred yards away.

"Don't you go in there! You wait right there."

Dice stood in the doorway, raised his hands, and smiled.

"Hey, yeah, sure. Come on over, guys! It's all clear!"

The two thugs trotted forward, first keeping their eyes on Dice but, as they moved, their own fear got the better of them. The two began looking side to side.

Dice took the opportunity.

He quickly jumped inside the open door and slammed it shut behind. Rifle shots rang out and bounced off the bulkhead a second too late.

Dice found a tremendous feeling of satisfaction in the sound of those missed shots. He found even more satisfaction in the heavy thunk that reverberated in the control panel as he turned the automatons on.

Of course none of that satisfaction compared to Dice's glee at the sight of Daven's face twisting from anger to fear as small hatches opened along the base's front face and released four of the seven-foot tall, three-legged attackers.

The skinny guy got blown away first. A shot of metal arrows skewered the fellow and tore him to pieces.

Daven gained some control over his emotions as he dodged between power substations to avoid a series of laser bolts. Dice watched from the control room, smiling.

Daven saw this and charged at the big window from the outside. He fired at Dice from twelve feet, then eight, then two feet (just outside the window).

Dice didn't even flinch. The bullets held no hope to penetrate the heavy glass.

He did hear, however, Daven's frustrated growl that morphed into a scream as three attackers surrounded him and blasted his body to scarred pieces with laser blasts.

Dice looked into Daven's dying eyes and made a gesture that involved only one finger.

"That's what you get for putting a burlap sack over my head!"

Daven died. The attackers fanned out to patrol the front grounds of the station.

"Okay then," Dice spoke to himself. "Now I've got a car or maybe even one of the shrikes that have to be around here. Maybe this isn't going to be a bad day after all!"

He smiled to himself while gazing out at the patrolling robots, knowing full well he could just turn them off before leaving.

A sound, however, caught his attention. A click, actually. A metallic click.

The sound of a gun being cocked.

The sound came from very close to his left ear.

Dice closed his eyes and slowly raised his hands.

"Aww Christ."


	4. Scavengers

**4. _Scavengers_**

"Aww Christ."

Dice slowly raised his hands above his head and closed his eyes in anticipation of a slug in the brain. After three long seconds of waiting for death to come knocking, he opened one eye cautiously, then slowly turned his head.

"Now whatchya got dere, Billy?" spoke a woman's voice from farther away.

Dice, arms still above his head, turned to face the gun-holder.

He was a young, tall, lanky fellow with plenty of stubble on his cheeks, sunken eyes, and a tightly drawn face. He wore a worn cowboy hat and tattered old clothes that might have once been a leather jacket and jeans.

Behind him in a doorway that led deeper into the base stood a pregnant blond girl with a face covered in zits and stretchy jeans holding back eight months worth of baby.

"Don't rightly know, Sweetie," Billy drawled in a shaky, high pitched voice that might have been funny had he been a character on the _Beverly Hillbillies._

A fat, greasy guy with mechanics coveralls walked in behind 'Sweetie.' He held a shot gun in one hand and carried a piece of electronic equipment—yanked from some console in the place—under the other.

"Oo, Billy, I think he came here to steal stuff off 'dem Second-Earthers."

Billy's eyes grew sharp and he shoved the gun more forcefully in Dice's direction.

"Is that it? You here to rob dis place? That's a crime, fella. They shoot you for that."

Dice, still with his hands aloft, cocked his head and dared, "Um, kinda looks to me like _you guys_ are here ripping stuff off."

That took Billy by surprise. His eyes widened and he appeared offended, until he realized Dice's words to be true.

Dice qualified, "Hey, but that's none of my business, right? Hehe. Yeah, that's my motto, stay out of other people's business."

He cracked a smile. Billy did not smile. Sweetie did, though.

"Hey Billy," she said as she strolled forward. "It looks like this guy went and killed some of Vladimir's boys. I think that's that Daven jerk out there, ain't it?"

The greasy guy rushed forward and peered out the window. Billy stood a little higher on tiptoes and gazed past Dice.

"Whoo! Yep, it sure is. Ha," the greasy guy sounded ecstatic. "That guy was a little turd. Yes he was."

Dice mumbled, "You can say that again."

Billy grew serious, "Hold it there, mister. We don't need to be goin' and repeatin' ourselves."

"Um, well, see, that's sort of a figure of speech, I, uh—"

"Hey…hey wait a second," Sweetie leered at Dice. "They brought you here to git somethin' didn't they."

"Uhhhh"

"Yeah. Hey Billy, Vlad-I-mere's mechs were all outa power cells. I bet they sent this fella here to grab some from here."

Billy received, analyzed, and understood Sweetie's suggestion.

He squinted menacingly, "Say, mister, you workin' for Vladimir?"

"Um…I…"

"You'd better come with us. Pa can figure out what to do with 'ya."

Sweetie strolled to Dice, ran a hand over his chest, smiled and told him, "I can think of lots of things to do with this one."

"Now you stop that right now, you hear me?"

She pouted and walked off.

Billy leaned forward.

"Don't you get no fancy ideas, mister. She's just doin' that to make me jealous. You hear me? Keep your hands offa my girl."

Dice smiled, "Oh, hey, yeah, I can see, you two make, like, the perfect couple. Yessir."

As they moved Dice form the security control room into the motor pool he realized that his plan had gone awry. Killing Daven had been fun, but he had not forgotten about Elena. As he had watched Daven and the other thug die, Dice had thought of the idea to take one of the shrikes from the base and head on back to Vladimir's. He figured he only really needed one shrike to blast past the misfit guards, grab Elena, find a gas station, and get the hell on the road.

But no, it did not look as if things were going to work out that way.

A few minutes later, after the greasy guy turned off the automatons again, Dice found himself in the grip of an Armored Shrike. Literally.

Dice had not expected Billy to have the brainpower to operate the mechanical beast, but he had been proven wrong. The young man took command of one of the modified Grapple units, slipped into the cockpit, and grabbed Dice in the giant metal hand. Any false moves and Dice knew he'd end up a stain.

The greasy guy also drove a shrike—a heavy-duty model—while Sweetie got behind the driver's seat of a Jeep. The back of that Jeep was filled with power cells--all the power cells from the base--as well as other stolen equipment.

Dice realized that since his plan of using force had failed, he would need those cells to save Elena. That is, of course, if these backwater scavengers didn't kill him and roast him over a fire for dinner.

The convoy traveled for several miles until coming to plateau in a mountain range. The isolated enclave was surrounded by wasteland, but yet Dice saw fields of harvested corn all around the perimeter of a small village.

Quaid had lived for many years alone in the wastelands. He had never seen anyone manage to grow corn out there.

That village was a strange sight, an eclectic collection of thatch homes and tents alongside Armor Shrikes and Jeeps as well as few pack mules. Equipment ranging from modern BBQ grills to spits over fires to radios to old wooden buckets lay scattered about. The people—twenty or so—included a few young kids, some elderly, and everything in between.

All wore a ragtag collection of clothes from army tunics to faded formal wear.

Dice realized that these people had survived by scavenging anything and everything they could find. They had probably avoided being detected by the Blue by living in such an isolated place, a place so devoid of life that even the Blue would not think to live there.

The convoy stopped at the center of town, a center that included a massive water tank.

Billy lowered the arm holding Dice then jumped from the Shrike, his pistol still aimed in his prisoner's direction.

A crowd gathered around the convoy. Sweetie began distributing goodies to reaching hands. Monitors and wrenches, baskets of bullets and strands of rope. It did not appear that Billy's raiding party had been looking for anything in particular, they had just been looking for anything.

An older man emerged from the crowd and approached Dice. The fellow walked hunched over, maybe from osteoporosis, maybe from an injury, Dice did not know. He chewed on something, Dice hoped it was tobacco but thought it might just be cud. His gray hair was unkempt and his hands were adorned in a mass of red age spots.

"Well, whatchya got here, Billy?"

Dice decided to take the initiative.

"Hey, hello there. The name's Dice Quaid, and I'm just passing through."

He smiled big and broad.

"Huh? What did he say?"

Billy spoke in a much louder tone.

"We found him at the second earther place. Pa, I think he was there to steal stuff."

"Steal stuff?" Pa sounded shocked. "Why don't this fella know that if it's 'round these parts it belongs to us? Now mister, why would you go and steal stuff from us?"

Try as he might, Dice could not find the logic in the man's words but he did realized that it might not be best to point out that the 'stuff' at that base did not belong to Pa's group, either.

"No, no, that's not it at all."

Sweetie spoke up.

"He was with some of Vladimir's men."

All of a sudden the crowd that had been hurriedly snatching away items from the back of the Jeep stopped. Pa's eyes grew wide for a second, then narrowed on Dice.

"Vladimir? Did she say you work for Vladimir?"

"Well, that's not exactly—"

Pa pulled a very old .357 magnum from a holster on his back. He leveled the massive barrel at Dice's nose.

Dice spoke fast. And loud.

"Hey, no, that's not it. Those guys bushwhacked me and forced me to go to that place to grab power cells."

"I knew it," Sweetie smiled. "I knew he was after them power cells for Vlad."

Pa growled, "We don't like Vladimir around these parts."

The old man cocked the hammer on the mammoth pistol. Dice was not sure the museum piece would actually fire, but he took no chances.

"Wait! Wait! No, see, you got it all wrong. Hey, ask them, I turned on the attackers to get rid of Vladimir's men. No, he forced me to go there, see?"

Sweetie's face lit up. Dice found it hard to believe that she had forgotten that one little detail but, considering the company she kept, it was quite possible that she was that dumb.

"Hey, yeah, you know he's right. He did smoke two of Vlad's guys. One of them was Daven."

Pa glinted at Dice as if unsure of the truth.

"Say, did you kill Daven?"

Dice could not be sure he knew what answer would displease Pa. He was having trouble keeping pace with these people. Or, at least, figuring them out.

"Um…yes."

Pa glared for another long moment…then smiled, uncocked the hammer, slipped the gun into his waistband, and said, "Good for the little turd. You know he snuck into our camp way back when and pretended he was one of us, then got us in a heap of trouble with Vladimir. Sold us right the hell out, didn't he?"

"That's right, Pa. He sold us right the hell out," Billy echoed.

"What was you doin' runnin' with Daven in the first place?"

Dice looked about then slowly lowered his raised hands.

"Well, you see, it's kinda funny. Life is like that, right? Any-who, this Vladimir guy went and snatched this girl named Elena. He says he's going to kill her—can you believe that?—if I don't go and get some power cells for his Shrikes. Isn't that just the darndest thing?"

"And what was you doin' over at Vlad's in the first place?"

Dice chuckled, "It's a long story, but the short way around is to tell you I ran out of gas. You don't happen to have any gas, do you?"

Pa and the others ignored Dice's request for fuel.

"So, you sayin' you need our power cells to get this girl outta there?"

Dice did not bother pointing out that the cells, in fact, were not actually the property of Pa and his clan of scavengers. Yet again, he thought it best not to dwell on certain details.

"Um. Yes."

"So you thinkin' we should just hand em' over to you? You think Vladimir will still make the trade, seein' that you killed his boys?"

Dice answered, "Hehe, yeah, well I don't think Vladimir cares too much about Daven. He was a turd, right?"

Pa paused for a long second, then burst into a big laugh.

"Whoot! Why you're just funnier than…than…why you're a funny guy there, Dennis."

"Dice."

"What kinda name is Dice?"

"Ummmm…"

"Forgit it for know. Listen," Pa threw an arm around Dice and started walking him away from the center of the community. Dice had to hunch over to match the old man's poor posture.

"Them power cells, there a big deal for my folk. But, I've been thinkin' this over and I figure maybe I could sees my way to partin' with them because, well, my family here is in a heap of trouble."

"No, you don't' say? Why that's just a shame."

"Yep. Look out there, Dennis. What do you see?"

The old man pointed to a field at the base of a steep mountain. That field had been used to plant, grow and harvest food, apparently corn. It had not been used in some time.

"Well, I think I see a corn field."

"Naw. You see a_ field, _Dennis. No corn. Have you ever seen corn grow way out here? C'mon now, be honest with me."

Dice shook his head 'no.'

"That's right. But we got corn to grow way out here, you know how?"

Dice shook his head 'no' again.

"We got ourselves real special type of corn seed, yes sir. Can grow in anything."

"No? Really? That's just…that's just great."

"Not so great."

"Oh."

"See, the woman we got this corn seed from, she makes it all special so it can grow out here in a place like this. I mean, if ain't for the Blue we'd be livin' somewhere with big ole' green fields and growin' corn all days long, right?"

"Right."

"The Blue have this nasty old habit of munchin' on humans like me and yous. So that just ain't in the cards for now, right?"

"Right."

"So anyway," Pa stopped walking and stood next to Dice. "This woman runs a big old lab-or-a-tory. Yep. She has a sci-en-tist who made this special corn seed. Some kind of…some kind of…"

"Oh, hey, enhanced corn."

"…what? What's that? No, she made this special corn for us that's better and stronger than usual corn seed. Only, see, she only gave us some of it. She didn't give us enough and we needin' more or me and my family and all my kids, well, Dennis we're going to starve out here."

"She won't give you any more. Why not?"

Pa grew sharp, "Hey, that's my business. Stop pokin' your nose around."

Dice raised his hands in a 'no offense' gesture.

Pa finished his story, "She's a sweet old lady. Names Agatha Dwiddle…"

The old man had a photo of Agatha. He handed it to Dice.

The elderly woman had nearly blue hair tied in a bun, a sweet grandmother smile, and—in the picture—held a pan of brownies being gobbled by a horde of little kids.

"…I'm thinkin' maybe a smooth-talker like you could stop on by over at her place and find out if maybe she can't see her way to slippin' us a little more."

Dice returned the picture, nodded his head and bit his lip. He knew where this was going.

He scratched his head and spoke, "And if I can get you some more of this corn seed, you'll give me some of the power cells that I can give to Vladimir to get Elena out."

Pa slapped Dice on the back, "Oh, man, Dennis, you sure are one sharp fella. What do you say? Think you can do this for us?"

Pa tapped the handle of the .357 wedged in his waistband as he spoke. The message came across loud and clear.

---

Dice stayed the night with the scavengers, sleeping in a warm tent and vaguely aware of 'Sweetie' hovering around outside that tent at all different hours of the night.

_Oh please do NOT let her come in here._

Pa and his family were more than happy to share some water and a few ears of what remained of their corn, all to help Dice to be ready for his mission. They even gave him a well-fed mule for the journey, although the well-fed mule looked so old and worn that his last meal might actually have been his very last meal.

Dice spent the first part of the morning riding to the east, first descending the mountains then crossing open plains. Along the way he past a mass of burned, broke, and otherwise destroyed tanks all with Russian flags as well as hundreds of skeletal blue carcasses. No doubt this had been one of the many battlegrounds in the war that had seen the Blue case mankind from the surface of the planet so long ago.

He gave the graveyard a wide berth.

At that point it grew too hot to travel, so he found shelter in a dead village. Most of the buildings were as old if not older than the graveyard of tanks, but at least a few still had roofs. He shared some shade with a man's bones for a couple of hours, wishing desperately for some smokes.

After the hottest hours of the afternoon had past, Dice made his way by mule further to the east, jogging to the north slightly when he spotted the remains of a Blue nest that served as a navigation point in his journey. According to Pa, it had been one of the first large-scale nests in all the world, but located in the middle of nowhere.

Not long after seeing the nest, the mule died. Just like that. Dice felt it wobble under his legs so he quickly dismounted. The animal snorted once and fell over.

The demise of the pack animal did not take Dice by surprise; the creature had been breathing in a labored fashion for several hours.

Dice continued on foot.

The day had grown long by the time he crested a soft sloping mountain on the southern outskirts of Agatha Dwiddle's homestead.

Pa had suggested that Dice could sweet-talk Agatha into helping them. Dice did not take that suggestion seriously. He knew darned well that Pa wanted action and results, not negotiation.

Still, that lady in the picture looked like such a kindly old—

BAM!

Dice dropped to his belly and crawled to the summit of the short hill. Below him stretched Agatha's place.

No…a compound.

The main 'home' sat surrounded by six-foot walls. The inner buildings included a large square and several smaller ones and a big garage. Satellite dishes and antenna sat on top of the buildings and while they showed their age, they looked in perfect working order.

It wasn't a massive area, but it surpassed any notion of being a 'home'. More interestingly, on the northern side of the facility, just beyond the north walls, sat a landing strip, fueling pumps, and a take off ramp, all designed to accommodate space shuttles.

_Dicey-boy, what have you gotten yourself into?_

Unfortunately, Quaid did not have time to fully take in the sights. The loud noise had been the sound of cannon fire.

However, the cannon fire was not Dice's immediate concern. No, he was more worried about the swarming, fluttering noise. The noise being made by the mass of flying, Man-Eater Blue descending upon the compound.

The attackers approached from the west in a formation of six. They swooped in toward the compound.

Dice did not see what he expected to see. He thought he would spy armed automaton attackers rush to meet the invaders. He did not.

The base did have, however, defenses.

One tall platform stretched high above everything else directly overhead the main building. It looked something like a big crow's nest from a sailing ship of centuries gone by, but much large. Plus, it held a big, heavy cannon.

That's what made the BLAM sound, over and over again.

At one end of the cannon there was a seat for the gun's operator.

Dice peered across the wide open distance. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust. During those moments the cannon fired again and again, knocking one then two blue from the sky. The oversized insects swirled about, trying to approach, but fearing the deadly fire of the weapon.

In that seat sat a big man. Dice knew himself to be a big man. This guy was bigger.

At first, Dice felt certain the man wore some kind of white turban but, the more he watched, Dice became sure that it was not a turban but a head wrapped in bandages like a mummy's head.

The four remaining Blue dived toward the gun platform.

BAM! BAM!

Two blue fell from the sky, landing with hard thuds inside the compound walls. Dice heard the rat-tat-tat of a heavy machine gun from behind those walls, no doubt someone making sure the monsters were dead.

The last two Blue dove again. The gun fired, missing twice then hitting one of the attackers at nearly point blank range. The beast smashed into the gun, dead, but hitting with tremendous impact. Dice could see pieces of debris fall from the weapon and a hiss of steam pour forth. Obviously the cannon had suffered critical damage.

Worse for the big man with the bandages, the last remaining Blue landed its armor-plated self on the rim of the gun platform.

_Poor bastard. He put up such a good fight, too._

The man with the bandages jumped out of the seat of the gun. Dice expected to see him scream and make a run for it. But no, the fellow marched toward the Blue that hovered larger than even the considerably-large man.

Dice noticed something else. The big man with the bandages wore a long holster of some kind. Dice couldn't tell exactly what it was but what happened next happened so fast that Dice lost track of all his thoughts.

The Blue leaned over and in toward the approaching man. The creature's armored lips opened and a sick, pulsing red and white mouth stretched forward in the way Dice had seen a hundred times; stretching forward to bite the head off the man.

The big man with the bandages punched the creature directly in its extending mouth.

Dice knew that mankind had fought a thousand, maybe ten thousand, battles against the Blue. Millions upon millions of the monsters—probably hundreds of millions at one time—against four billion human beings on Earth.

Quaid felt fairly confident in thinking that this was the first time that any Blue had actually been punched by a human being.

Anyway, the punch obviously hurt but even such a big man could not knock a Blue over with a good right cross. The armor-plated monster staggered in surprise, then refocused on killing the big-but-still-puny man.

The extra split second the punch had bought gave the big guy a chance to pull his weapon from the strange holster. In fact, Dice quickly realized that it was not a holster on the man's waist but a scabbard. He pulled not a gun, but a shapely sword that made Dice think of pirate movies or maybe _Sinbad._

That sword did not move fast, but it moved with great power. The man hacked off the Blue's extending mouth with a right to left swipe, then raised the blade above his head with two hands and brought it down with force into the core of the creature.

The Blue hovered on the platform, shocked that a man had actually beaten it in hand-to-maw combat. More importantly, its core had been breached; the Blue was already dead, it just took a second for the impulse to die to reach its tiny brain.

It fell. Dice saw a cloud of dust and heard a big thump as it hit somewhere behind the main building.

The man with the bandages around his head glanced down from the platform, glanced around for more attackers (there were none), then descended a latter from the tall platform into the compound.

Dice smiled.

_I have got to shake that fella's hand._

His mood perked. Anyplace with a guy that gutsy was a place Dice would like.

He jogged down the far side of the slope with the intention of walking straight up the front gate. He paused, still a fair distance from that gate, when another noise grabbed his attention. Not a 'blam' but a 'boom'.

Dice looked skyward. Nothing but a sea of blue and some puffy white--

Wait a sec… 

Dice noticed a speck up there, in the western quadrant of the sky. That speck grew in size and took shape. He saw two wings and a fuselage on a white ship.

Dice realized the boom he had heard had been a sonic boom made by a spacecraft entering Earth's atmosphere.

He realized something else, too, based on the markings on the plane's belly and wings: it was a Second Earth shuttle.

The craft floated to Earth. Its landing gear extended. It bounced first the rear two sets of wheels then the front set on the tarmac of Agatha Dwiddle's runway.

Dice took cover. Walking in the front door was no longer an option.


	5. Agatha Dwiddle

**5. _Agatha Dwiddle_**

The arrival of a second Earth shuttle at Agatha Dwiddle's compound changed the equation substantially. Dice knew he could no longer walk in the front door with a smile. Why? Because Dice Quaid had long ago deserted from the second Earth military. Desertion carried one sentence: death, usually preceded by a short but showy trial.

Therefore, instead of marching right up to the front door bell and giving it a ring, Dice maneuvered down from the foothills and along the outer wall of the Dwiddle compound. As he moved, he could hear the sound of the shuttle first stopping then taxing toward the set of buildings.

Dice noted that the compound had obviously survived a fair number of Blue attacks; aging carcasses of flying Man-Eaters and even a few Tank Beetle shells lay strewn around the wastes outside of the walls. This did not surprise Dice, for he had just seen that big guy with the bandaged face actually punch a Blue in the mouth. No doubt the people of Dwiddle's compound survived thanks in one part to their grit and…and what else?

_The shuttle, Dicey-boy. These folks are getting supplied by 2nd Earth. _

That revelation came as a great surprise because the people of 2nd Earth considered all those left behind on the blue-infested globe to be 'already dead.' That made for a rather easy excuse to not supply, save, or other wise aid the 'groundlings' left behind.

A part of Dice knew he should simply walk in the other direction. He should forget about doing the 'noble' thing in trying to free Elena from Vladimir; he should forget about convincing Agatha Dwiddle to hand over corn seed to those scavengers.

_Dice, be honest with yourself, the real plan is to steal it._

He pounded a fist into his head. Sometimes he could be such a pain in his own ass.

He walked along outside of the six-foot wall, occasionally moving or hopping over dead blue bodies. However, Dice stopped when he came to the body of yet another blasted tank beetle. The big, cumbersome monster had been felled—apparently—by a cannon shot to the noggin'. Dice considered it his good fortune that the shell of the dead monster had not yet crumbled away into little bits.

He slid that shell closer to the wall, stood on it, and jumped up. Dice—already a big man—needed no help to scale a measly six-foot wall but the extra leverage made things a little easier and if Dice wanted one thing in his life, it was for things to get a little easier.

Quaid hauled himself over and dropped into the compound behind a pallet of sandbags. Well, they were something like sandbags. He did not know what they were. Maybe flour?

Anyway, the grounds were cluttered enough that he had little trouble slinking across the area, behind the house, and over to the far side. On that far side the six-foot wall gave way to an open, fenced-in area; a kind of dock complete with a couple of forklifts, more packages of that flour or whatever, fuel drums, crates, and more. Just beyond that dock area waited the second-Earth shuttle, its loading bays wide open. But instead of loading items onto the shuttle, two soldiers unloaded packages from the shuttle, moving the stuff via carts from the ship's cargo hold to the dock area.

Dice stopped his slinking and observed form behind a big water tank. The bandaged guy who had punched the blue stood near the open fence of the gate observing the movement of supplies from the ship to the compound. Across from him stood a man that Dice did not recognize but he did recognize the uniform.

The Second Earth officer sported sharply-sculpted side burns, little beady eyes, thin hair, and stood maybe five-five at best. His soldiers hurried to unload whatever goods he had brought from Earth.

Dice darted from the water cooler to stack of crates marked 'animal feed'. The move put him a few yards closer to the action.

It also put him closer to the supply area and the shuttle. He could smell the lingering fumes of rocket fuel drifting from the ship's baffles, the acrid scent of chemicals coming from unloaded cargo, and a comforting aroma of fresh-baked brownies.

_Huh? Brownies?_

Dice's attention perked.

"Oh, now hello there Captain Koal, sweetie."

The grandmotherly voice came from an equally grandmotherly-looking woman who approached the Second Earth officer wearing a flowery dress protected by a white apron with the words 'Kiss the Cook' stenciled on its front. Her hands—adorned in heavy baking mittens—carried a big pan. The aroma of chocolate goodies came from there.

Captain Koal replied in a voice that sounded far too harsh to use in addressing such a sweet old lady.

"I did not come here for brownies. You have your goods, where are mine?"

Dice got mad just hearing the fellow speak in such a tone.

"Oh, now, Captain Koal I baked this pan fresh just for you and your men. You can't tell me you get walnut chocolate chip brownies up there on that big ugly space station of yours."

The little man with the beady eyes sneered at the pan but the two soldiers who had been unloading the shipment hustled over and quickly helped themselves to squares of fresh-baked goodness.

"Thank you, Mrs., Dwiddle," they said in unison as if addressing their first grade teacher.

"Oh, now that wasn't a bother at all."

"Business. We have business to attend to."

The grandmother had had enough of Captain Koal's badgering.

"Take a god damn brownie you little fu# weasel or I'll have Roc here shove it so far up your ass you'll think it's an enema!"

Dice's ears burned.

The huge fellow with the bandages took a step forward. Apparently, he went by the name of Roc.

Captain Koal's arm shot out and grabbed a brownie.

Agatha's grandmotherly smile returned and she waited with great anticipation for reaction as the officer chewed the delightful morsel.

He spoke through a full and contrite mouth, "mmm…yes… very…mmm…tasty."

"Now, deary, did we get everything?"

One of the soldiers handed a clipboard to Agatha but only after she handed off her goods to Roc. The man whose face was covered in bandages like a mummy and who had cannoned then punched hordes of blue less than an hour before stood silently with a pan of brownies in his hands.

Agatha placed her oven mittens on a nearby box and read from the clipboard in a soft, soothing tone.

"Let's see here…hmmm…forty-seven gallons of multi-purpose fuel…one case of vitamin supplements so we have healthy bones…oh my heavens you managed to get a hold of some synthetic sugar, that will make my peach cobbler so much better…twelve cases of artificial fruits and vegetables…oh, Roc, look, Captain Koal sent along more anti-fungal powder for that nasty itch of yours…"

Roc grunted. It may have been a thank you.

"…three cases of medical supplies…two Pentium 9 computers—my daughter will love those, by the way--a drum of cooking oil…two cases of machine gun bullets…one case fragmentation grenades…one drum of viral anti-toxins…one pallet of heavy cannon shells…and an armor shrike replenishment kit. Oh, yes, and one case of artificial yeast because Captain Koal knows that while the secret ingredient in my banana bread is love, it takes yeast to make it rise in the oven."

Agatha returned the clipboard to the soldier and leaned over and gave Captain Koal a kiss on the cheek.

He did not seem amused.

"Okay, now, what about my stuff?"

"My, oh my, we're always in such a hurry, aren't we?"

Koal reminded, "I don't really have authorization for this flight, Agatha. If I don't get back soon my friends in flight control won't be able to cover my tracks."

Agatha still smiled.

"Oh, now, honey, don't you fret. If your friends in flight control want to take off on their favorite ride, they'll just have to cover your tracks a few minutes longer. I've got two pallets of their own personal rocket fuel for you."

Koal grew agitated.

"Two pallets? That's it? That's barely a month's supply!"

She growled, "Don't you raise your voice to me you snot-nosed puke. A bunch of Vladimir's thugs burned down one of my warehouses last week. Maybe you should drop a thermonuclear bomb on his little ranch and end my fu&#$ problems with that asshole."

Koal grew balls: "Or maybe I should deal with Vladimir again."

Agatha did not spew expletives but, rather, grew contrite herself.

"Oh, now, sweetie, why would you even talk like that? You know Vladimir's people haven't been delivering his poppies on time. His production operation is running by a hair. No, sonny, you stick with old Agatha here. I'll take care of you."

Dice heard the sound of approaching footsteps. After a moment, a young redheaded girl wearing a white lab coat joined the group. She could not have been any older than a teenager but she wore her hair in a tight bun and sported wire-rimmed glasses. Dice did not have to quiz her to know that girl was smart.

"Here you go grandmother."

"Oh, thank you, Sheena."

The men—all of them except Roc—eyed Sheena with dreadful leers as she handed a small container—about the size of a jewelry box—to Agatha Dwiddle.

Agatha, in turn, handed the box to Captain Koal who, judging by the corkscrew in his expression, did not expect it.

The older woman explained, "This is something special, deary. Take a look…go ahead, don't be shy."

Koal cautiously opened the heavy lid of the box. Dice realized that the case was made of heavy steel with the crisscrossing blades of a 'biohazard' symbol painted on the lid.

From his vantage point, Dice spied a series of holders in that case, but could not see much more.

"What is this?"

Dice noticed the red head girl fidget. She was nervous or uncomfortable or something.

"This, sweetie, is the future. I call it Super 2."

"Super 2?"

Koal pulled a small vial from the container, held it up at the sun, and peered at the green/blue powder inside.

Agatha recaptured the officer's attention as she waved at the shuttle's cargo bay where the two pallets of contraband had been stowed.

"That vial you're holding, sonny, is more valuable than a dozen pallets of 'new heroine.'"

Koal repeated his question with an annoyed edge, "What is it?"

"Synthetic heroine," Agatha informed with a devious growl in her voice. She then waved a dismissive hand and explained, "Oh, now, my daughter here probably can give you a whole lecture on the ingredients of this little heart throb. But, Captain, when you boil it all down you got yourself a super-potent kernel of a drug that doesn't need farms, mules, or anything more than a little processing."

Koal's face corkscrewed in confusion again.

Agatha snapped, "Listen you knucklehead, you're holding a gold mine in your hands. You ain't gunna get anything like this from Vladimir. He's still living in the Stone Age."

"Grand mother…" the red head sounded as if she had something to say.

"Hold your skirt on, honey. Now, where was I? Oh yes, Captain, forget all these heavy bags and say goodbye to weeks of cultivating and then muling poppies down from the mountains. Yes, that's right, sonny, I can do it all in the lab. And all you have to take back is a couple of vials and step on it like squishing worms and you got yourself an easy supply of one potent little hottie."

Koal started to get the picture.

"So…I take a couple of these back home instead of a ton of product, thin it out and we make the same money with less cost and risk? That right?"

Agatha turned to Roc.

"And you said he was dumb."

Koal countered, "What's wrong, Agatha, having trouble with your organization? Transportation problems? People problems?"

Agatha smiled.

"Oh, well honey, with people come a lot of problems. Like feeding them and giving them stuff to live. And, of course, the blue have been somewhat active lately. I like to think of this as cutting costs and improving the product. Kind of like…kind of like baking a better brownie."

Agatha reached over and took two more of the fresh-baked delights from the pan Roc held. She handed one each to the soldiers flanking Koal. They ate them greedily but not until after nodding a polite 'thank you.'

Koal asked, "How do I know this will do what you say it'll do?"

"Oh, deary, I wouldn't expect you to trust little old me. Consider that one a sample. Take it back to your labs up in those big ugly space stations of yours and check it out."

Koal returned the vial to the case. Before he could close the lid, the red headed girl—Sheena—stepped forward.

"Wait. Captain Koal, look at this."

Much to Agatha Dwiddle's annoyance, her grand daughter offered the officer another vial full of yellow pellets.

"Huh? What's this now?"

Sheena explained fast before her grandmother could interrupt.

"It's a genetically-enhanced corn seed. You can grow crops in just about anything and it might help with the food situation there because it's helped some people down here."

Koal held a hand up to slow the girl's enthusiastic explanation.

Dice listened even closer.

Agatha sighed and said, "Go ahead, Captain, indulge my grand daughter. Take it to your lab and see if it is worth anything to the people of Second Earth. If it is, I can have Sheena make more. As it is, that's our last vial unless I find some profit in it."

Koal asked, "Um…why'd you make it in the first place?"

"To feed the people who harvested the poppies for my grand mother," Sheena spat.

"But I don't need them now, not with this new designer drug," Agatha explained in a tone that suggested they move on to a new subject.

"Now you run along, Sheena. Get back to your lab and start…well…start working on something useful."

The grandmother shooed her grand daughter away. Sheena slung her head and moped off.

Koal took the pause to slip the corn seed vial and the drug vial back into the case. He handed the case to one of his soldiers who was forced to stuff the better half a brownie into his mouth in order to make his hands free for carrying.

The soldier walked off toward the shuttle. Dice eyed the guy—and the case—as he moved.

"Now, Captain, I have a few other things I'd like to go over…"

The conversation faded away in Dice's ears. He did not need to hear anymore. The scavengers who had sent him on this mission were, in fact, drug runners. Still, they were drug runners who had relied on Agatha Dwiddle for sustenance in exchange for muling her product from the mountains to her labs en route for sale to the addicts on Second Earth.

Drugs, Dice remembered from his life in those space stations, were always in the background. The boredom of life on the space stations—punctuated by missions of terror to the Blue-occupied earth—needed to be broken. Sex served as the number one pass time but all sorts of indulgences and over indulgences were available, most illegally but some with tacit approval from the council (probably as a means of keeping the populace from getting too restless).

Moral considerations aside, Dice wanted that vial of corn seed. He did not care about drug runners or poppies or the crooked Captain Koal running contraband to the space stations. He wanted that corn seed so he could get the power cells and free Elena and get a tank of gas so he could move on with his life.

He watched the soldier with the case disappear into the darkness of the shuttle's massive cargo hold. While Koal and Dwiddle talked, Dice darted from hiding spot to hiding spot until he managed to slip up the ramp and into the shuttle's rear compartment (as large as a small warehouse).

That cargo area, despite having unloaded so many supplies, remained well-stocked with both the two pallets of drugs as well as a plenty of other questionable items probably picked up by Koal on his way to various stops. Dice wondered who would face more trouble in front of the council—himself for deserting or Koal for smuggling.

Regardless, Dice moved through the cargo area following the sound of the soldier's footsteps.

Dice stood behind a big rectangular box and spotted the soldier. The man fumbled with some straps along the cargo bay wall trying to find a means of securing the storage box.

_Now this will be easy. One guy. I nice bump on his noggin and I take the box._

Dice, a plan in mind, took a step forward.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

The new voice came from a second soldier who moved into the cargo hold from the front of the ship. Dice moved into the shadows again.

"I'm trying to strap this box in, man."

Dice eyed the men as they worked to try to secure the container. Both had only side arms.

_Okay, Dicey boy, we can do this. One knock on the head, then another knock on the head, and off I go._

Dice took a deep breath, put on his game face, and stepped forward to—

"Guys, what the hell?"

A third soldier entered the hold, this one carrying an assault rifle.

Dice retreated once again.

"We're trying to strap this box in."

"No, no, Cap wants that up front with him, not back here. C'mon."

The three soldiers and the box containing both the designer drug and the designer corn disappeared out of the cargo bay and into the main compartment of the shuttle. They closed a heavy bulkhead door behind them.

"Oh, now, that just screws the pooch," Dice whispered to himself. "Now, is there anything else that can go wrong here?"

CLANG.

The cargo hold went dark as the rear doors shut. Small red emergency lights offered some illumination.

Before Dice could get his bearings, the shuttle lurched forward. He stumbled one way, then the other.

"What? Oh boy, we're taxiing."

Dice glanced about the area as if searching for answers but his rational mind had already come to one inescapable conclusion. A conclusion the rest of him refused to accept until he heard the shuttle's landing clear clamp onto the launch ramp's guide rails.

_I'm going to Second Earth._

_Oh shit._

Dice realized at that moment that he was not wearing a space suit or strapped into a harness. Odds were good that the cargo bay would remain pressurized, but the g-force at lift off might just crush his body.

He heard power build.

Dice's eyes darted from side to side searching…

The shuttle shuddered.

Dice saw what he needed. A set of unused cargo cables along one wall above a well-secured crate. Dice hurried to that spot, pulled the yellow and red harness tight over his shoulders and reached for the latch…

The shuttle rocked. The engines fired.

Dice stopped securing himself as something caught his attention.

He stood and darted over to a stack of supplies from which he grabbed a small carton, pulling it free from bungie straps holding it in place.

The shuttle's engines roared…

Dice hopped on top of the crate, pulled the straps over his shoulders, and found the buckle just as the shuttle raced forward. The g-forced strained everything onboard the ship including barrels and pallets and boxes and Dice Quaid, but the cargo straps held him in place…barely.

The nose cone angled up the ramp as the shuttle veered toward the sky.

Dice fought the power of the ship's acceleration to move one hand to the carton on his lap. He struggled to rip open the end…pulled out a cigarette from the carton and, with much difficulty, slipped it between his lips.

The shuttle blasted into the blue sky, through the clouds, and into the blackness of space.

_Crap. Out of matches…_


	6. Sex, Drugs and Second Earth

**6. Sex, Drugs, and Second Earth**

Dice forgot more than just his matches. He forgot how much he hated space travel. After the onslaught of g's gave way to the gravity-less feeling of orbit, he remembered.

Despite his best efforts, he found it impossible to vomit quietly. Fortunately, the sounds of his gut wrenching apparently did not echo into the command module of the shuttle.

So he sat there, his body held in place by the straps even as his butt floated off the seat, and watched a blob of green mass fly slowly across the space of the cargo bay.

Dice considered his predicament.

He couldn't just get himself into something simple, could he? He tried to just walk away, wasn't that right? But they didn't let him. Vladimir's men thought he had been sent to save Elena when, in fact, he had been planning to ride off into the sunset and leave the girl to her fate. Come to think of it, Dice realized, the bad guys had thought Dice had more character than he had even thought of himself. They had thought he was doing the right thing when, in fact, he had planned just to leave it all alone.

Kind of like how he had tried to convince Yuji to stay with him and forget about Marlene, the sleeper program, Second Earth, the war with the Blue, and whatever other responsibilities the kid had felt.

Dice closed his eyes and saw a solitary grave marker on a hill outside of the old supply depot he had called home for so long.

_What would she have thought?_

Dice opened his eyes.

So then had come the quest for shrike power cells followed by a quest for genetically engineered corn. That particular Holy Grail sat somewhere in the front of the shuttle. That's why old Dicey was on his way to Second Earth, where he would be shot for desertion if detected.

Splat.

The blob of vomit fell fast to the metal floor of the bay and splattered unseen behind a pile of crates. Dice's butt thunked against the side rail on which he sat.

_Gravity?_

Clang.

The shuttle vibrated.

Dice realized they had arrived at Second Earth. No doubt they were already inside a docking bay that had now been re-pressurized and artificial gravity turned on to allow the unloading of supplies. Dice suspected, however, that this particular cache would not be attended to by the regular crews. Certainly this Captain Koal would wait until the area was clear to unload his haul of contraband.

However, the vials containing the designer drug and the designer corn seed had been placed in a separate container. No doubt, Koal was already on his way to secure those valuable prizes somewhere safe.

Dice un-strapped himself from the cargo tethers and moved toward the front of the ship. He could hear voices from up there: the voices of Koal's buddies disembarking.

Dice only had to wait for an opening to get off the shuttle.

---

Dice Quaid peered around the corner. All seemed clear. He crossed the intersection.

Fortunately for Dice, he still wore the military tunic issued to him so many years ago. It was dirty, worn, and had shrunk a size since those early days. Should on officer pass him, he'd most certainly be berated for poor dress before being shot for having deserted the Second Earth military after a particularly unsuccessful drop operation.

That was so many years ago, but he knew folks up here carried grudges.

He ran a hand over his forehead and found sweat there.

_So much for a cool demeanor._

Dice could not blame himself for being nervous. He had not merely been transported to the convoy of satellites that comprised Second Earth. Oh no, it could not be that simple.

No, the shuttle he had stowed away aboard had not transported him to either the Training Station or the Medical Station. Instead, Captain Koal's ship had deposited the wanted deserter aboard the Military Station. Home of the Council. Home of the Commanders who would sit on his court martial, no doubt.

Still, he had done well so far. Dice had managed to sneak away from the shuttle and out of the hanger bay, finding his way to the less-traveled maintenance corridors.

_But where are you going, Dice? What's the plan?_

"Stop asking so many questions!"

Dice clamped a hand over his mouth. Had he really just yelled at himself?

_Uh-oh, now I'm losing it._

He found, however, that he did have a plan.

First, find an open computer terminal. Second, look up Captain Koal's private quarters. Third, search those quarters for the genetic corn seed. Fourth, get off the station, either by stealing a shuttle or, for that matter, finding an air lock and just jumping 'cause burning up in the atmosphere would be a lot better than facing a court martial.

He continued along the empty corridor and came to a major junction. On the far side of the junction beckoned another maintenance hall. That's where Dice wanted to go.

However, a major thoroughfare ran between him and there. Technicians, workers and lots of medical personnel moved through that intersection, all certainly under the watchful eye of security cameras.

However, he had no choice. He had to get across.

Like a swimmer diving into shark-infested waters, Dice took a deep breath and stepped from the muted lighting of the side passage into the bright lights of the main corridor.

He kept his eyes pointed down and walked brisk, but not too fast. He wanted to hurry but not look as if he were hurrying.

Dice made it half way across—into the very center of the hall—when the alarm klaxons blared to life and an announcement told: "ATTENTION. STATION IS ON MAXIMUM ALERT."

Quaid had always considered himself a man of action: Quick reflexes, always a witty one-liner, and the ability to think on his feet.

The man of action froze in the wide-open middle of the hallway. Just froze.

He did not even move when he heard the stampede of military boots echo along the hall.

Dice raised his eyes, sighed, and saw two columns of battle-dressed soldiers racing toward him.

_Okay, now, where's that air lock?_

Still, he did not move. What would be the point?

The soldiers bore down on him. The sound of their fast-marching boots filled the hall…as they raced right past him.

Dice watched them go with a sense of complete puzzlement. At first, he thought the boys were just near-sighted. He had to stop himself from calling, 'I'm right here, assholes!'

Then it hit him. They weren't after him. The station was on alert but not on alert for _him._

For some reason, he found that realization to be a blow to his ego.

After a moment, he realized he had not moved. The nurses and technicians of the Military Station's Hospital and Research Level began to take notice of the poorly dressed, rough-looking soldier standing stalk-still in the middle of the corridor.

Dice smiled, chuckled, waved to the onlookers, and then proceeded toward the side corridor again.

He felt some small relief in leaving behind the brightness for the darkness but, after walking along the secondary hallway for a spell, he began to feel as if he were being followed.

Dice considered his options as he walked along a dimly lit, thin passage.

He could run. He could turn around and pop his pursuer. He could—

"Dicey? That you Dicey-wicey?"

_Dicey-wicey?_

_Oh no_.

Dice snapped about in response to the female voice. The woman, dressed in a nurse's uniform with a security badge pinned to her chest, stepped into the glow of a utility light.

"Ohmygod it is you! Dicey!"

Dice squinted and examined the red-haired, green-eyed woman.

"Um..?"

The smile the woman wore quickly changed to a frown.

"You don't remember me."

She stepped forward and placed a solitary finger against his lips.

"You don't remember…Dianna…hmmm?"

Dice's eyes widened and a devilish smirk slapped onto his face.

"Oh, hey, yeah, Dianna. Of course. The hanger deck in zero g…that was a long time ago."

Dianna smiled again.

"Like, oh my God I haven't seen you in forever. We used to hang out a lot back in the day. I mean, gee, really hang out."

Dice scratched his chin.

"Yeah, um, well, I've been busy, see and--"

Her eyes widened as a memory blasted into her mind.

"Wait a second. I remember why I haven't seen you around in a while. You went on that drop operation in Russia and never came back. They said you…ohmygod…they said you _deserted."_

Dice fidgeted.

"Oh, now, geez, not really, no, see, um, I kinda got lost and all and I—"

"Like, I should go and report you right this second, shouldn't I?"

"A…now you wouldn't wanna do that to old Dicey, would you?"  
She smiled.

"Well, I could be convinced. But wait a second, why would you come all the way back here if you knew they'd shoot you?"

Dice put both hands on her shoulders, gazed at her with the eyes she had always found so sexy, and told Dianna the truth.

"Listen, Dianna, this is really important. There's a bunch of people down there on Earth that need food to survive, see? And this guy by the name of Captain Koal brought up from the surface a type of, well, special genetic corn seed thing. I dunno. You know I've never been too swift about these things, right? Anyway, I'm figuring this Koal guy took the sample to his quarters and I wanna get it back and get it down to those people on Earth who are starving."

Her eyes drooped like a puppy dog's.

"Oh, Dicey, that's so sweet. You're only doing this to feed a bunch of hungry groundlings. I always knew you had a heart of gold. But I know this Captain Koal guy; he does some work for the biological sciences division. Any samples like that he brought back from the surface will be stored in a special lab down on level 38. And Dicey, you're not going to just walk in."

He took his hands from her shoulders and grunted.

_Of course, it would not be simple._

Dianna brightened his mood.

"Ta-da!"

She pointed to the security badge on her chest.

"Things have changed since you left, Dicey. I've got top security clearance. I mean, it took a lot of long nights of hard work…"

_Yeah, Dianna, hard work in some hot bunks no doubt._

"…but I've got a top-notch security clearance. My card will get you inside."

Dice reached for it, but not fast enough. She avoided his fingers.

"Ah-ah-ah," she wagged a finger. "Before I do for you, I want you to do for me."

Dice's expression corkscrewed.

"Huh? Well, sure, I suppose. What is it you want?"

"I want you to…I want you to_ do_ for me. You know, Dicey-wicey," she ran a hand on his chest. "Just like the old days."

Dice swallowed.

"Um, Dianna, I mean, time is short and I can't just go, you know, walking around this station. Being a wanted man and all."

"Oh, you are such a _wanted_ man, Dicey. But we don't have to go far. Why look, there's a dark corner over there."

She pointed to shadowed dead end around the corner of the maintenance passage. Then she placed a hand on his chest and pushed. Dice retreated a step, then two, then more.

Dianna began to disrobe, first pulling off her medical tunic and dropping it on the metal grating of the floor.

"Dianna. I mean, really…"

Her hands slipped under his shirt.

"Oh, now, c'mon Dicey-wicey. I'm sure this isn't the worst thing you've had to do."

Dice considered.

Fighting Blue, blasting past automatons, getting held at gunpoint by Pa's rednecks, stun-gunned by Vladimir's boys, and sneaking into a shuttle.

No, this was definitely not the worst thing he's had to do recently.

Dice let Dianna push him into the dark corner. He let her disrobe him to match her own nakedness. Then he went to work, paying his due in exchange for her access card to get him in the bio lab where, hopefully, the genetic corn and the designer drug would be stored.

Neither Dice nor Dianna noticed the blond woman with the twin ponytails, nearly out of breath, as she peeked around the dark corner and quietly stole away with Dianna's discarded tunic, security card and all.

Dianna was not satisfied with just one round of payment. It took a good half an hour before she was ready to hand over her share of the bargain.

"Ohmygod. My clothes are gone!"

"Huh?"

Dice pulled his own top over his muscular frame. Dianna, on the other hand, had nothing to wear at all.

"My clothes! Urrgg. Someone stole them!"

Dice smacked a hand on his forehead.

"I have to repot this right away. Ohmygod, I'm going to loose credits over this!"

She narrowed her eyes.

"This is all your fault!"

"Wait, no, honey, Dianna, baby, please now. I kept my part of the bargain…didn't I?"

He flashed his eyes and offered a subtle grin. Dianna could not resist.

"Oh, Dicey-wicey."

"Now tell me, Dianna, where is this lab?

"Oh, Dicey. On level thirty-eight. You'll see it marked 'Bio Sample Storage.' But Dicey, without my card how are you going to get in?"

Dice scratched his chin.

"I dunno. Guess I'll just wing it. Thanks anyway, Dianna. Really, you're a peach."

She placed a finger on his lips.

"Remember that, Dicey. I'm a peach. Anytime you want a bite…"

"Sure, hey, you betchya."

Dice gave her a peck on the forehead and walked off along the dark corridor, offering one last wave as he left.

"Ohmygod," Dianna said to herself and patted her chest. "He's sooo awesome."

---

Dice happened upon a forgotten toolbox among the dark passages of the maintenance area. From it, he took a screwdriver and a set of wire cutters, both necessary parts of his plan to get into the bio lab once he found it. His plan assumed, of course, that the folks on Second Earth had not done any major re-wiring in the years since he had left.

He spent several minutes sneaking down emergency stairwells until arriving on level thirty-eight.

Based on the number of activity there, he feared he might have been spotted. He could hear guards shouting, alarms blaring, and all sorts of commotion.

Nonetheless, he ventured out from the back corridors and into the light of the main halls, whistling as he walked.

_Hello. What is this?_

Dice came upon a junction near an elevator. Lying on the floor in front of the elevator were several Second Earth soldiers, each groaning, grunting, and grabbing their heads. Dice noticed taser-patches on their clothing. Someone had zapped the boys with a stunner.

He gingerly stepped around the crowd as the men, still groggy, tried to make their way back to consciousness. Dice remembered that he, too, had once been hit by a stun-patch back in the days when he called the space stations home. It had left him with a hell of a headache.

He found—much to his surprise and his delight—that the corridors were mainly clear. Apparently some sort of emergency was in progress—probably a drill—and most of the techs and workers had cleared out.

It wasn't until he arrived at the Bio Sample Storage door that he saw a large group of people. That group hovered at the end of a long corridor around the corner from Dice's destination. He could not see who hovered there, only a crowd of soldiers in front of a lab door. From what he could guess, they had some poor bastard cornered down there: probably the person responsible for drawing security's attention away from Dice.

_Hey pal, thanks for all your help. Wish I could return the favor._

Dice, however, had more things to worry about than whoever had gotten into trouble with station security. He had to find a way past the locked storage room door without a key card.

He scanned the hall up and down and found what he wanted, just a few feet from the target door.

_First bit of good luck all day_.

He approached a panel set low on the wall about five feet from the Bio Sample Storage room. A few turns of the screwdriver removed the panel, revealing a tangled set of wires running through the wall.

Dice knew those wires to be part of the security override system. They allowed the bigwigs sitting in the command center to take control of doors, bulkheads, lights and more.

Quaid had learned his fair of tricks back in the days when he used to cause trouble on Second Earth. Indeed, there were very few areas he could not access back then, not because of security clearance but because of ingenuity.

Still, which wire?

Dice squatted but kept ready—he knew that if this worked the door would open but only for a split second, giving him a short window to get inside before the redundant systems sealed the bulkhead again.

_Hmmm…_

Dice took a close look at a red wire, a blue wire, and a yellow wire.

He cringed, closed his eyes, opened them again, and cut the blue wire.

Dice heard the snap of a circuit breaking then the electronic whir of a door sliding open. The _distant_ whir.

He glanced toward the Bio Sample Storage room door. It remained shut.

_Hehe, I opened the wrong door._

Dice heard commotion from that group down the hall. He paid it no mind.

_Let's try the red wire…_

When the red wire cut, the target door opened.

Dice leapt to his feet, raced three paces, and dove just as the portal slid shut.

He landed on the cold floor inside the Bio Sample Storage room.

_Yes!_

Dice rose to his feet and stumbled about inside the dark room until finding the light switch. Two banks of flourescents flickered to life and cast the small but orderly room in a sterile glow.

The chamber—little more than a glorified closet—was home to several large cabinets with hermetically sealed drawers, each with different labels.

TANK BEETLE CORE SAMPLES

LAND WHALE EXOSKELETON SHARDS

SLEEPER TISSUE SAMPLES

UNIDENTIFIED BIOLOGICAL MASS

SAMPLES PENDING ANALYSIS

The last label caught Dice's attention. It was affixed to a large door. He swung it open and revealed a series of shelves with various vials, beakers, and boxes. He recognized one container as the small chest Agatha Dwiddle's daughter had handed to Captain Koal.

He opened it and found both the drug and the corn vials inside.

Dice theorized that Koal had a confidant in the Biological Analysis Department, someone Koal trusted to examine both the genetic heroine and the genetic corn seed.

Dice planned not to give them the chance. He didn't like the fascists who ran Second Earth, but he did not like the idea of a new, easy-to-produce designer drug hitting the market up here, either. The poor bastards of Second Earth had enough to worry about; they didn't need another drug.

Good intentions aside, Dice also knew the genetic heroine might be a bargaining chip for him to use with Vladimir or Dwiddle, should it come to that.

Now…let's get out of here.

Dice turned off the lights and opened the door.

She stood in front of the door, blocking his path. A tall woman with glasses and short, dark hair dressed in the uniform of a high-ranking office.

Her eyes widened.

"Dice? Dice Quaid?"

Since it had already worked for Dice once that day, he tried to be charming again.

"Amick? Amick, baby!"

Amick Hendar smiled…then slapped Dice across the face hard enough to make his head wobble.


	7. Trouble

**7. Trouble**

The cuffs were too tight, Dice thought, but he knew that telling Amick as much would only serve to please her, not bring about any relief for his wrists.

Still, he did have questions for her.

Why, for instance, were they not on the way to the detention center? Why had Amick not called for more assistance? Certainly, a deserter as well known as Dice Quaid deserved a more fitting escort than two soldiers?

The jab of a rifle butt into his shoulder informed Dice to turn left; down yet another corridor after having rode an elevator and otherwise seemingly walked from one end of the Military Station to the other.

Amick herself had disappeared not long after creating a big red mark on Dice's cheek. After that slap, she had eyed him with that same look he used to see in her eyes that told him she was crafting a plan of some sort. No doubt a devious plan.

She had then whispered something in a guard's ear and that's when his trek across the station had began.

During the walk, Dice had time to think about what had gone wrong.

Bypassing the door lock had been his only chance at getting inside. However, he had bypassed the wrong door on the first try. He guessed that Amick had been a part of that crowd at the end of the hallway and that whatever door he had accidentally opened had also been down at that end of the hallway.

_Just my luck._

So Amick had gone off searching for the reason and found the disturbed wall panel.

"Okay, in here," one of the escorts ordered.

The door opened and they pushed Dice inside.

The soldiers un-cuffed one of his hands then locked one of the manacles around a pipe that ran floor to ceiling in the dark chamber.

"Sit tight. Don't do anything stupid, we're right outside."

"Oh, yeah, hey, sure, no problem."

Dice expected to be in some kind of holding cell. Instead, he found himself in someone's quarters. The size of the place—a bed, a desk, and even a private bathroom—suggested the quarters were set aside for someone of importance. However, he saw no personal items and the place looked too neat, making him think the room to be more of Second Earth's equivalent of a hotel room.

Dice sat and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He fell asleep on the cold floor; it offered the best rest he had known in days. That rest was disturbed with a swift kick in the butt.

"Huh? What?"

He sat up on the floor.

Amick Hendar glared down at him. She held the container he sought in her arms.

"Dice Quaid, well, I'm quite pleased to see you again after so long."

The 'pleased' part didn't sound like she was going to throw him a welcome home party.

"Oh, hey, Amick. You're not still pissed off about that whole thing with me, you, and that girl from Fifth Infantry, are you? I told you, that was an—"

"Enough! I did not bring you here to discuss the past. Our previous…our previous _entanglements_ are not the issue here. Nor is your desertion from the Second Earth military."

Dice stood, causing a grating screech as the cuffs rubbed against the metal pole he was chained to.

"Oh, now, that's great. Let bygones be bygones, that's what I say."

She strolled over to the desk and placed the container on top, then opened the lid.

"It seems you have undertaken new ventures. I see you've decided to become a participant in smuggling drugs onboard Second Earth."

Dice's eyes widened.

"No, no you've got it all wrong, see? It's all a big misunderstanding."

"I see."

Amick pulled the two vials from the container and held them aloft.

She said, "A friend of mine in chemical analysis informs me that this vial contains a new type of designer drug; a very potent form of heroine. This one vial alone could supply enough doses for a hundred people, no doubt turning them quickly into addicts. The second vial is more puzzling. Genetically engineered corn seed. This one sample could fertilize an entire field of corn. I'm assuming, of course, that this corn is here as a cover for your true intentions."

She was not asking a question but, rather, stating the conclusion she had reached.

"No! No, hey, not at all. This is all one big mix up. You don't understand at all."

Amick returned the vials to the container and closed the lid.

"I see. Please, tell me where I am wrong. You deserted the Second Earth military several years ago and are a wanted man. You came aboard this station either as a stowaway or as a passenger with smugglers. At some point, this container with your valuable vials was separated from you and you came to retrieve it, illegally breaking into a secured storage facility. Where, Dice, is the misunderstanding? Where am I wrong?"

Dice ran his free hand over the back of his neck and mumbled, "Hey, well, yeah you seem to pretty much have hit the nail on the head."

Amick smiled. Her smiled dissipated when the communications console on the desk beeped to signal an incoming transmission.

She walked around the desk but before opening the channel she locked her eyes on Dice Quaid.

"You will be silent if you know what is best for you."

_If I knew what was best for me, I would never have gotten into this mess._

Amick activated the communicator. Dice could not see who called, but he heard a voice. A man's voice.

"Ahhh, Amick, I trust you find your temporary quarters comfortable. They're the best I could do on such short notice."

"Yes, thank you Doug," although Dice could see little in the way of sincere gratitude on Amick's face. "These will do, for the time."

"I understand you have already escorted our newest recruits to the Sleeper brigade. How did they're first day of training go?"

"They're training is still in progress."

The man on the other end of the communication laughed. It sounded more like a snake hissing.

"Ha! I have already heard that Tony Frost made quick work of them. You lost our bet and now owe me ten credits, Amick. I plan to collect."

Amick growled.

The man on the other end did not let up.

"Then again, you already owe me for not highlighting your failures to the council in regards to 2-8-0-5. Had they heard of your incompetence you might have suffered greater indignities than a temporary transfer to the Military Station to oversee the Sleeper Brigade development. I trust your recruits back on the Training Station will miss you. In the meantime, I'm sure you will enjoy working on _my_ facility. As long as you remember who is in charge, of course."

Dice had no idea who 2-8-0-5 was, but that person had caused Amick Hendar a great deal of trouble. He began to realize that Amick had suffered a blow to her reputation. That made her all the more dangerous.

"I'm sure this pleases you to no end, Doug. Rest assured that I will reclaim my position of prominence soon enough."

Amick punched the communicator switch, essentially hanging up on the caller.

Her eyes immediately darted over to Dice.

He smiled and said, "Gee, hate to see that you're having so much trouble. You know, I always said you were—"

"Silence! My troubles are not of your concern. However, you will be of assistance to me, Dice."

He shrugged.

"Of course. Hey, you and me go waaayy back."

"I'm trying to forget that."

She walked closer to him. Her eyes narrowed.

"We have a growing drug problem on Second Earth. Trafficking in such contraband is an offense punishable by firing squad. However, I realize you lack the intelligence and ambition to run an operation of this kind. You are reporting to someone. You will tell me who your contact is."

"I see," Dice bit his lip. "Would that be the same firing squad that's going to shoot me for desertion?"

Amick growled. Literally growled.

Dice had more to say.

"The way I see it, Amick-baby, you've got some problems up here. Yessir, I may lack intelligence but even I'm smart enough to see that, um…what's his name? Oh yeah, this 'Doug' has you over a barrel."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't? Well, stop me when I'm wrong. You messed up on something. Actually, hehe, someone with the number 2-8-0-5. Now your pretty little ass is on the line. That's why you're sitting here in this crappy little VIP state room when you'd rather be back at your home on the Training Station."

Amick raised her hand as if to deliver another slap to Dice's already red cheek.

Dice hurried his explanation. His words halted her swing.

"That's why I'm not in the detention center. Yep, you haven't reported my capture yet. You're hoping to use me to break the drug ring so that you can, well, get back your reputation and all. So you, Amick-baby, need _me."_

She growled again.

He mocked her with his own growl.

She leaned in and growled louder.

He made a very tiger-like growl.

"Oh God, Dice."

She grabbed his head and thrust her lips on to his. She kissed him deep and hard. He ran one hand up her back and pulled her close.

They came up for air.

"Just like old times, baby."

Clothes came off.

---

During the course of their heated embrace, Dice convinced Amick that he could better perform his duties if his hands were released from the cuffs. She obliged and found that, yes, he was right; he could do things a little better with more maneuverability.

As he neared the end of the performance, Dice began thinking about the future (which was nearly as helpful as thinking about baseball). In order to secure that future, Dice managed to slip Amick's wrist into one of the cuffs. She was so busy enjoying the moment, that she did not notice.

Dice did Amick the courtesy of helping her get most of her clothes on. _Most._

Then, amidst her angry growls, he explained.

"Gee, I'm really sorry about this, baby. But I really don't want to go in front of a firing squad. Besides, there are a lot of people down there on Earth that are counting on me to come through."

"You treacherous bastard," Amick roared although her face remained slightly blush from the best half hour she'd had on Second Earth since Dice had gone AWOL. "You will not get away with this."

Dice nodded his head in agreement.

"I know. But let's see how far I get."

He walked over to the door, took a deep breath, then pushed the button and it slid open.

"Hey guys, look at this."

The two guards outside the door were taken by surprise. They swiveled about and peered inside the quarters, frozen in confusion by the sight of their boss with a fair portion of her clothes off.

_Thunk._

"Ouch."

_Thunk._

"Ouch again."

Dice had hurt his knuckles on the sturdy jaws of the guards. Both men lay on the ground unconscious.

"Dice! I will see you in front of a firing squad."

Dice shrugged his shoulders and complained, "And this is the thanks I get. I'm not doing any of this for me, see? No, no, that Vladimir guy wants me to do this and then those rednecks want me to do that. Now I give you a couple of good minutes and this is the thanks I get."

Amick growled.

Dice grabbed the container with the two vials and took a step toward the door.

He stopped and faced her.

"Listen, um, I'm not a drug dealer, okay. Just to show you how good a guy I am, let me tell you that a feller by the name of Captain Koal is the one you want. He's the guy smuggling all the goods up here. I just happened to be caught up in all this and believe you me, I want nothing to do with it. But, hell, I guess I gotta play the hand I've been dealt, right?"

"I don't believe you."

"Yes you do," he told her. "But you like being mad too much, so you won't let it go. Bye-bye, baby, it was fun. Just like old times. Hell yeah," Dice smiled and maybe—just maybe—she smiled a little, too. "We sure did a few good times. Seeya Amick, try and learn to relax a little, will ya'?"

Dice left the quarters, allowing the door to shut behind him.

---

It took Dice all of an hour to slip into the shuttle bay then slip into a vacant shuttle. During that hour, he did happen to lift a pack of smokes and some matches from a locker room.

So he enjoyed several long drags on a cigarette all while outside, around him in the hanger, technicians hurried with one task after another.

Unfortunately for Quaid, the only transport sitting unattended was one of the smaller ship-to-ship space buses, also used as cargo carriers. He knew how to fly it and he knew it had the capability of re-entering Earth's atmosphere, although it was not nearly as capable as the big birds.

_Still, beggars can't be choosers, right?_

He did not care. If it could get him off Second Earth and planetside, it would work. Nevertheless, he had one more problem. The hanger doors remained shut. He could not charge his way out of the ship. He had to wait for his chance. And he waited. And waited.

After another two hours of hiding in the shuttle and four more smokes, Dice finally got his chance.

Another ship-to-ship shuttle received take-off clearance and made for the big hanger doors. Those doors rolled open.

Dice activated his ship, hit the thrusters, and followed the other bus out.

"Shuttle 3-7, this is flight control, you do not have authorization to disembark."

Dice ignored the radio call. His shuttle exited the bay, nearly knocking the other bus aside in the process.

With a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he programmed in the course for the Resource Recovery Station near Vladimir's homestead. Or at least he thought he plotted a course for the Resource Recovery Station, he could not be sure for he had not flown a shuttle in years.

"Shuttle 3-7, pilot, identify yourself. What is your code number?"

Dice ignored yet another call from the monotone flight officer. His shuttled pulled further away from the Military Station.

"Shuttle 3-7, return to—"

A new voice stole the microphone from the flight officer. A woman's voice. A very angry woman's voice.

"Dice, this is Amick Hendar. I wanted you to know who it was who blew your shuttle out of the sky. Defense grid, open fire."

Dice closed his eyes but also pushed the accelerator, applying maximum thrust. He did not know the range of the Military Station's lasers but—

THWAP.

A streak of red light flashed past his craft. Then another. Then something hit the rear end and caused the whole thing to shutter.

"Oh crap."

Alarm bells rang. A computerized voice warned, "ANGLE OF RE-ENTRY TRAJECTORY DISRUPTED, IMMEDIATE COURSE CORRECTION REQUIRED."

Dice did his best to comply with the computer's suggestion. The shuttle trembled again.

"WARNING. PORT SIDE PROPULSION UNITS DAMAGED."

"I got it…hang on baby…I got it…"

"ENTERING OUTER ATMOSPHERE. NAVIGATIONAL ERROR DETECTED."

The boxy shuttle glowed red-hot as it slipped into the highest bands of Earth's atmosphere, moving out of range of the Military Station's weapons but also careening off course.

"WARNING. NAVIGATION ERROR DETECTED. MANUAL CORRECTION NECESSARY."

Dice had his hands full keeping the blunt nose of the ship high enough so as to allow the heat shields to handle the brunt of the re-entry.

"WARNING. STARBOARD PROPULSION UNIT FAILURE."

The shuttle changed from a flying object headed toward the ground to a falling object headed to the ground. The difference lay in the fact that the former had the hope of stopping in a manner other than a splat.

"I don't care where we land," he grunted as he cursed the computer. "Just get me on the ground!"

The entire shuttle shook and shimmied side to side. The windows glowed with a bright haze as the tapestry of space was replaced with the light blue of the upper atmosphere.

Dice grappled with the controls, using bursts of stabilizer rockets to help right the ship's trajectory.

While he had been waiting in the hanger on Second Earth, Dice had found the coordinates for the Resource Recovery Center that Vladimir's men had taken him to. It made sense for all of Second Earth's official outposts to be stored in the nav computer. Dice's plan had been to land there so he might find his way to Pa's scavengers and hand over the corn seed in exchange for the power cells in exchange for Elena in exchange for some gas.

Now all Dice hoped for was a safe landing. As the ship fell toward the Earth with the aerodynamics of a brick, that seemed less likely.

The shuttle broke through the low-hanging clouds above a vast expanse of sandy wasteland.

He saw a massive mound of some type far below. It looked softer than the surrounding ground. Still, he had no way to maneuver the craft or slow descent.

Quaid, speaking to no one through clenched teeth as he battled the controls, promised, "God, just get me out of this thing and I'll…I'll…" he felt the cigarette between his lips. "I'll give up smoking."

"ATTENTION. STARBOARD PROPULSION UNIT BACK ON-LINE. PORT SIDE PROPULSION UNIT OPERATING AT 50 PERCENT."

Dice ran a hand over his sweaty head.

"Well I'll be damned. Hey, thanks big guy."

He brought the engines to life, trying desperately to slow the plunging vehicle. It worked…a little. Not enough.

"AAAHHHHHH."

The shuttle hit the building-sized mound in the middle of the wasteland, and pushed through. Dice heard violence smashes and crashes and crumbles as his ship penetrated the mass like a bullet going through plywood.

The windshield smashed, the walls dented, sparks flew, warning bells chimed, and Dice continued to scream.

Then it slowed. Slower.

CRASH.

Dice was tossed from his seat and thrown to the back of the ship.

He lay there, his eyes closed for three long seconds.

He opened one eye, cautiously, then the other.

Dice saw not some vision of the after life, but the ceiling of the shuttle.

He ran his hands over his belly and arms.

"Well, whatddya know. I'm in one piece."

He pulled himself to his feet and held up the pack of smokes he had stolen.

"Well," Dice said with a glance toward the ceiling. "I've never been a religious guy, hehe, but I guess a bargain is a bargain. I'll just go throw these out."

Dice opened the side door. It was dark out there and the air smelled bitter and moist. Nonetheless, plenty of new light shined in through the hole he had made in the roof.

He took a step outside the shuttle, stopped, ran a hand through his hair when he saw what was out there, and placed a smoke firmly in his lips. Dice then lit a match and lit the smoke.

He cast his eyes skyward.

"The deal was I'd give up the smokes if you got me out of this. Well, you landed me okay, but I sure as hell ain't out of this."

Dice took a long drag from his cigarette. It tasted good.

They watched him from the shadows, mustering their strength. No doubt they would charge forward in a moment or two and make quick work of the man.

Blue.

Dozens of them.

Dice had crashed into the middle of a Blue nest.


	8. Jake and Erma

**8. Jake and Erma**

Dice did not feel as if he were breaking a bargain by having one last smoke. The bargain—or rather the prayer—had been an agreement to give up smokes if the big man upstairs (or lady, or whatever) got him "out of this."

Dice had never given much thought to supreme beings of any flavor, but he had been behind the stick of a shuttle that was heading toward a big splat. At that point, Dice would have made a deal with anyone to 'get me out of this'.

When the shuttle's propulsion units had miraculously re-booted and after the impact had been deadened by the structure into which he had crashed, Dice gave serious consideration to his luck being an act of divine intervention. But when he had stepped from the shuttle and found that it had been the sticky walls of a Blue nest that had slowed his crash, he realized it more likely an act of divine comedy.

No a big nest, mind you, but big enough. Dice did not even have a pistol.

So he stuck the smoke between his lips and lit the match while he waited for the Blue to charge in and put an end to his life. Not that he wasn't afraid to die, but with so many of the foul monsters moving in for the kill…well screaming just seemed like a waste of time.

_It's been fun._

Two choppers marched forward with mandibles wavering in the air above Dice's head. The creatures probably moved slowly because they rarely encountered humans who failed to fight back, let alone scream.

BLAM.

One of the Choppers rocked side to side from an impact. Dice's mouth gaped open and his cigarette dropped to the ground.

"Nice shootin' Erma! I'll blast the other one!"

Dice heard the whir of metallic wheels and saw flashes of artificial light—spotlights—flicker through the chamber. The gathered congregation of Blue turned their attention to two newcomers.

Two armored Shrikes.

Dice—immobilized by shock—watched as the pair of war machines whizzed into the chamber.

The first appeared to be a Heavy Duty model and the second a Grapple, but both had undergone major modifications.

A loud speaker boomed: "TAKE COVER THERE, SON, UNLESS YOU WANNA BE BLUE-MUNCHIES!"

Dice shook himself from his trance and crouched into a crevice under the crashed shuttle.

A volley of rockets spewed from the Heavy Duty armored shrike, each smashing a line of Blue marching forward to intercept the newcomers. Half a dozen of the beasties dropped after the warheads exploded away the front half of their insect-like faces.

"YOU GOT EM' JAKE!"

A massive, armor-plated Tank Beetle rumbled into the room and confronted the grapple at twenty yards. Dice watched that machine do something he had never seen done before.

The shrike's two fist-like metal hands launched forward like missiles in their own right: missiles formed into the shape of a fist. A heavy rope or chain trailed behind.

The two flying punches rammed into the Tank Beetle's noggin', cracking the protective outer shell and causing the monster to stumble about in pain.

The two fists retracted fast on the ropes, clanging into place at the end of the shrike's arms as neatly as if they had never been separated at all.

The Grapple then displayed two additional pieces of modification: chain guns mounted in its chest.

_Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat._

The already-damaged shielding on the creature was ripped away by the rounds, bringing its life to an end.

"NICE SHOOTIN' ERMA!"

More Blue came, pouring in from side chambers. Choppers, Tankers, and even a slimy Spring Worm.

Dice watched the battle play out. It all seemed so surreal as spotlights flashed around the cavern, shadows of Blue rumbled forth, barrels flashed like lightning, and a cacophony of sounds from spent shell casings _tinging_ to the ground to the roar of angry monsters created a chorus of chaos in his hears.

"ON YOUR LEFT, JAKE!"

"BLAST EM' GOOD, ERMA!"

The Heavy Duty Shrike with Jake at the helm deployed two over sized bowling balls that rolled into the horde of approaching monstrosities then exploded outward a tangled web of heavy cables with sharp arrows at the ends. The lines pierced several Blue bodies, ensnaring the beasts as if they had walked into a spider's parlor.

The Grapple sprayed a hose of sticky adhesive like super glue, snagging three more of the nest's denizens. The monsters howled in frustration before heavy rounds blasted away their vulnerable cores.

"LOOK OUT ABOVE, JAKE!"

"I SEE THE EM', DON'T GO TELLIN' ME MY BUZNESS!"

The Heavy Duty fired yet another weapon—a wall of flame—at a Chopper trying to flank him from above. The animal writhed and fell from the ceiling onto its back. Jake's Shrike stepped forward, produced a massive metal spear from its right forearm, and skewered the downed Blue.

"THAT'LL LEARN EM' TO TRY AND SNEAK UP ON ME!"

Dice blinked fast. Was he really seeing this? Was this all a dream?

More shots. More rockets.

More dead Blue.

The battle lasted a good half an hour. Shrike barrels smoked from heat, the banter between the pilots slowed as each grew weary of the fight. However, the Blue grew weary first.

One last mammoth Tanker trotted into the room, only to be first sprayed by the Grapple's adhesive liquid then run-through by the Heavy Duty's spear.

Searchlights searched for more targets, but found none.

"All clear on the scanner," Jake's tired voice spoke in a normal voice, not a shout, for the first time.

Erma shot back. "You think I'd let them get you, honey?"

"Oh, now aren't you just as sweet as Pecan Pie?"

Dice crawled out from his hiding spot. The spotlights blared on him.

"Hey there, sonny. How'd you like the show?"

---

Dice rode along in the arm of the Grapple, comfortably held as the ship sped off to the east leaving a dying sunset behind.

The pilot of the Grapple, Erma, wore goggles over a grim face with flapping curls of gray hair above. The woman had to be in her sixties, give or take a decade.

"I hope it isn't too cold out there for you, sonny."

Dice smiled even though he shivered.

"No. Not at all. Much obliged for the ride."

"Now we're much too neighborly to go leaving a young fella like yourself on his own in a big bad Blue nest. Besides, we got ourselves a deal, right?"

Dice nodded. It was the best deal of all the deals he had made in recent days. Erma and her husband Jake wanted Dice's shuttle, even though the transport had been damaged beyond repair. In exchange, they would put him up for the night and help point him in the right direction come morning.

It occurred to Dice that Jake and Erma and their pair of Armored Shrikes could quite easily take the shuttle and all its spare parts. Dice realized, however, that such a move did not occur to Jake or Erma. They were just too darned sweet.

Jake, an elderly black man wearing goggles similar to Erma's, drove along in his modified Heavy Duty a few yards away. His voice crackled over the radio.

"Okay, honey, the door is open. Head right in."

Dice turned his attention straight ahead. The cold wind of night in the wastelands whipped through his hair. He squinted in the breeze and spied a small, rocky hill. The Shrikes headed directly toward that hill…directly toward a wall of rock. Without slowing.

"Um. Erma..hehe, I don't mean to be a left-arm driver, but I don't see any door."

The wall of rock loomed closer. The Shrikes did not slow.

"Erma…? Erma? Erma!"

Dice instinctively but futilely raised his arms to cover his head, nearing slipping from the war machine's grasp as he did. But instead of smashing into rock they past through the stone and into a dark hallway.

"Huh? What the..?

Dice turned around. He saw the soft glow of the fading sun on the far side of an image. A projected image of some sort. That soft glow disappeared as a solid bulkhead slid shut.

Erma chuckled.

"Holograph. The Blue don't come lookin' for ya' when all they see is a wall or rock."

Dice shrugged.

---

It was a noisy room, but quaint. The walls of the small redoubt had been cut from the surrounding cave and supported by wooden beams not unlike a mine shaft. However, the feeling resembled not an emergency shelter but a grandmother's house.

The noise was a low, constant chattering from the clutter of machines and gadgets; some half-made others—like a cuckoo clock—fully operational. A wide, long work bench ran the length of one wall, an old entertainment center with television set and VCR on another.

Another wall presented a line of analog clocks with placards underneath each. The clocks all told a different time for place such as London, New York, Los Angeles, Tokyo, Sydney, and Moscow. Dice could not be sure if the time kept remained accurate or not.

A deep, comfortable sofa and a pair of easy chairs flanked an oak coffee table. Open archways led to a handful of other chambers, including a kitchen from which drifted a meaty smell.

Jake sat in one easy chair and smiled at Dice as the two men sipped tea. Quaid had just finished relaying his story.

"Well I'm glad to hear those fellas at Second Earth were shooting at you. I'd be more worried about you if they didn't."

"Ah…huh? Oh, I get it. You don't like Second Earthers. Well, I'm not too much for those types nowadays myself. That's why they were shootin' at me, if you catch my meaning."

Jake stroked his beard. There were as many gray whiskers there as black.

"Well, they wanted old Jake Donner up there with them, floating around in those tin cans. Not me, though. I decided to stay put."

Erma walked into the room carrying a pot of hot water. She carefully re-filled the two men's cups.

"Wait a sec," Dice leaned forward in his chair. "Jake Donner? I've heard that name."

Dice scratched his chin.

"Can't quite place it though."

Erma offered an explanation for her husband.

"You ever done work on an Armored Shrike?"

Dice thought back to the piece of crap machine that had helped him survive at the old supply depot. He had done plenty of work on that one.

"Well…yeah."

"Guess you didn't notice the little thing called the manufacturing plate, did ya? You'll see old Jake Donner's name on each and every one."

Dice remembered.

"Jake Donner. You invented the Armored Shrike."

Jake waved a hand in the air.

"Oh, now, I invented a lot of things. Many of them a lot better than the Shrike. And they've gone through a few changes over the years, but I still hold the patent."

Jake's eyes stared off at distant, sad memories.

"Wish the world hadn't needed the Shrike."

Erma placed the pot of water on a hot pad atop the coffee table and sat next to Dice on the sofa.

"Of course, they wanted Jake to go on up to Second Earth with them, way back in the day, that is. But he wouldn't have none of it."

"No? Why's that?"

Jake sounded indignant at the thought.

"Because this is my home. Earth. Man wasn't meant to be flying around up there in orbit. That kind of living will drive a person crazy, that's what I say. Rather stay here and face the Blue, that's what."

"Lot's of folk stayed behind," Erma said. "Like that Professor Gorski fellow who was overseeing the Sleeper program."

Jake waved a dismissive hand.

"That nut case? I told you back then, Erma, that we weren't going with him to Manitoba. We're making our home right here."

Erma explained, "We were in Moscow when the President of the United States announced Operation Clean Sweep. We decided it best to find a nice place to curl up and hide, especially after the Russians and Chinese signed on."

Jake shook his head.

"Blew up half the damn planet. I told them it wouldn't work! I told them! That's what the Shrike program was all about, see."

Jake leaned forward and told Dice, "The Blue had a numbers advantage. And no matter what the brass thought, big bombs and nukes weren't going to get the job done. You nuke a city full of Blue, you know what you got?"

Dice shook his head.

"You got the ruins of a city full of Blue. The damn things are like cockroaches. If they ain't at ground zero then they just get a nasty sun tan. Besides, they breed like roaches too and the core chambers of their nests are pretty damned resilient."

Erma chimed in while holding her tea cup, "Gotta hit them right on the nose, or you're just wasting your time."

Dice did not seem to understand.

Jake explained further, "To kill the Blue you have to go down and into their nests. You can't do that from an airplane or with an ICBM. That's what the Armored Shrikes were all about, being able to get right down into a Blue nest and punch em' in the core."

Erma agreed, "Can't do that with a tank. Too clumsy. Limited visibility and all that."

"And you sure as hell can't send a platoon of grunts in there. Sure, a good sharpshooter with a rifle might take out one or two Blue, but that's it. Not enough fire power."

Erma nodded, "They found that out in Caracas, the poor bastards."

"So," Jake said. "That's what the Armored Shrike can do. It can give the firepower and protection of a tank to an individual soldier. If we had acted quicker…" Jake wrung his hands. "…if they had accepted my ideas faster…but by the time America bought into the idea Europe was already overrun, South America was in chaos, and half of Russia was under siege. They decided to go with Clean Sweep instead."

"I'm telling you, sweetie," Erma insisted, "Clean Sweep was all about buying time for the Second Earth program. It was a secret and with all the nukes going off they were able to keep it a secret long enough to get them stations in orbit."

Jake shook his head. Erma sipped her tea. Dice did not know what to say.

So instead of talking, he surveyed their home once again. So many tools and gears and wires and boxes, all strewn around a room filled with hospitality.

"So, ah, you're going to take apart my shuttle for spare parts?"

"Not exactly. Just parts, not spares," Jake answered. "I'm a tinkerer, Mr. Dice. I invent things. Like the Shrikes we picked you up in. They're heavily modified versions, in case you hadn't noticed. Don't even run on the same types of power cells."

"Oh."

"No tell, us, dear, where are you headed?"

Dice scratched his ear.

"Well, hehe, I'm not rightly sure. But there's a Resource Recovery Station I was headed for to the east. If I can get there, I figure I can find my bearings. But it's gotta be a good five hundred miles from here."

"Oh dear."

"I'm sorry to say, Mr. Dice, that we don't have much in the way of transportation."

"Wait a moment, Jake. What about the Toasty Tart?"

Dice could not be sure he had heard that correctly. He wiggled one finger in his ear incase wax had caused a distortion. It had not.

"Oh, yes, say, the Toasty Tart. Emma, you're right. That could probably make it five hundred miles. Give or take."

Erma patted Dice on the knee in a grandmotherly fashion.

"Now don't you worry Mr. Dice. We'll get you on your way in the morning. You'll be just fine."

The sharp 'ting' of a timer caught Emra's attention.

"Oh. The venison stew is almost ready. I'll be right back."

She walked from the room. Jake watched her go with half a smile. Dice was impressed. He could feel the warmth between the two. He wondered what they had been like when their love had been new.

_Probably like Yuji and Marlene._

"So, Mr. Dice. How did you get all wrapped up with genetic corn seed, kidnapped daughters, and jilted lovers?"

"Oh, hehe, well, I'm usually not the type of guy to go sticking my nose in other people's business. In fact, I was gunna walk away and leave it all alone. But they kinda dragged me in."

"Ah, yes. But maybe it was your destiny calling, Mr. Dice."

"My huh?"

"Your destiny. Or maybe karma, if you'd like. I can see that you fancy yourself a loner. Probably even fantasize of being a brigand or scoundrel. But Mr. Dice, you are a man with a heart."

"Well, now, I wouldn't go saying that."

"It's okay. Admit it. It's what makes us human, Mr. Dice. It's the difference between those of us who stayed behind on this Earth and those who went up into those space stations."

Dice scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't know about that. I've seen a lot of misery down here on Earth. People starving. Others stabbing each other in the back. It's one big mess, that's what I'd say."

Jake countered, "You think those people living under Victor's thumb up on Second Earth have it any better? They're up there, in their phony-oxygen floating coffins and they're dying, Mr. Dice. They just don't know it. Those space stations are sucking the life out of them. Man wasn't meant to float around in the void of space. He was meant to be here, on his planet."

"I guess you'd know more about that than me."

Jake smiled at Dice.

"I think, Mr. Dice, you know a lot more than you give yourself credit for."

---

The modified Heavy Duty Shrike buzzed across a farmer's field and through the remains of a destroyed village. A Jeep with Erma at the wheel and Dice riding shotgun while holding his precious cargo case of vials followed at a safe distance.

The stucco and wood and plaster of the village homes had long ago been destroyed and burned. Human skeletons and fossilized Blue carcasses could be spied among the ruins, but the battle that had come to that part of world had long since been decided.

Dice felt more rested and better fed than he had in weeks. Hell, maybe years. For the first time since he had run out of gas, he felt a sense of optimism. Optimism not only about surviving another day, but also about himself.

Seeing Erma and Jake surviving in the midst of this whole big mess made him realize that maybe there was hope. The two of them were like soft spots in a hard world: still warm and kind and full of life. Dice felt certain they had touched his own soft spot; the spot deep inside his heart that sat hidden behind his own hard outer shell.

He realized he had to see this whole thing through. Not merely for the sake of saving Elena but also for his own. He could not walk away from a person in trouble. Not now.

The convoy past through the remains of the small village and approached a large warehouse on the grounds of what had once been a tiny air strip. A dead Cessna covered in tumble weeds and rust sat sentry on the overgrown dirt tarmac. Its dust-covered windows looked like tired old eyes on a coon dog eyeing the approach of strangers.

---

The sun had fully risen and afternoon fast approached. The sound of the pump passing helium continued on as it had for hours. At first, Dice had felt that the noise of the machine would surely attract Blue, but with the passing of time it had become nothing more than background sound.

The helium was being pumped into a large, oblong blimp with a banana-shaped open-air gondola. On the white sides of the airship was a cartoon of a big-eyed child smiling and holding a rectangular breakfast pastry below the stenciled words: TOASTY TARTS MMMMMM.

Dice shook his head and walked back inside the dark hanger where Emma and Jake scavenged for any useful items they may have missed in the past.

"Um, hey, I think this thing is almost full."

Jake—wearing a helmet with a belt-in flashlight—pulled his head from a dark locker.

"What's that? Oh, good. Then you'll be on your way soon."

"Yoo-hoo, Mr. Dice. Over here!"

Dice followed Erma's call. As he walked across the large chamber a pair of birds fluttered away from the rafters so high overhead and flew out a hole in the roof.

Erma stood next to a small folding table on which rested an unfurled map. Dice strode to her side.

"Now, see, here," she pointed at the map and traced a line. "The Resource Processing Station you're looking for is about four hundred miles due east of here. We'd let you take our car, but we don't have enough gas to get you there."

"Hey, no prob. I mean, I know all about gas problems, believe you me."

Erma comforted Dice with a pat on his shoulder.

"If you go due east you'll come to a series of mountains and in the center of them all like a big punch bowl is a lake. It's about three quarters of the way between here and where you want to go. No listen, we call this Silver Lake. It has some Russian name, but I can't pronounce it, deary."

Dice smiled and nodded.

"So, this Silver Lake is on a direct path to where I want to go."

"That's right. But—"

Jake's voice interrupted Erma's navigational assistance.

"Hey Erma, check this out. There's an old Piper Cub engine here. Do you think we can modify it?"

Erma strode away from Dice.

"Let me see. You talk to Dice. I was just telling him about Silver Lake."

Jake took over helping Dice.

"So she told you about Silver Lake."

Dice nodded.

"Yeppers."

"Okay, now come with me Mr. Dice."

The two men walked toward the exit. Next to that exit rested a large container covered with a tarp. Jake pulled back the tarp and swung open the wooden crate underneath. Inside rested a large silver chain gun.

"Here you go, Mr. Dice."

Jake struggled to pick up the heavy gun. Dice reached in and took it from the older man's hands.

The thing had weight. It felt good. It felt deadly.

The two men walked outside and approached the nearly-filled blimp.

"Now, Mr. Dice, see this rail inside?"

Dice peered inside the gondola. A metal rain ran around the perimeter of the basket.

"Yeah."

"The gun mounts on that rail. I renovation I made myself back when I thought Erma and I might just want to go flying away from here someday."

"But you decided to stay?"

"That's right. We realized running wouldn't do us no good. Sooner or later you just have to plant down roots and take a stand."

Dice grinned wryly, "I suppose so, yeah."

Quaid then mounted the gun on the inner rail. He found two boxes of ammunition bands inside the gondola.

"Now, you know all about Silver Lake, right? You know what to do, right?"

"Um. Well, I know it's on a direct path—"

"Jake! Yep, I think we can hammer that big old mess of pistons into something useful."

Erma walked out from the hanger with a big smile.

"Oh good," Jake answered her. "You see, Mr. Dice, even old Earth's trash can still server a purpose, if you have the right mind about it."

Dice accepted the idea and then helped Jake remove the pump from the full-inflated blimp. The airship cast a shadow over the hanger and the people below.

Dice swung himself inside the gondola. Erma handed him his container that carried the vial of genetic corn seed and the vial of designer drug.

"Don't go forgetting this, after all the trouble you've been through."

She gave him a peck on the cheek for good measure.

"Okay, Mr. Dice, " Jake finished. "We went over how to steer this thing. Should be a snap for a man who can fly shuttles."

"Um," Dice conceded. "I crashed the shuttle."

"Oh dear. Well, in any case, remember the defensive measures I told you about. The chain gun and the shock plates."

"Gotchya."

The mooring lines were removed, sand bags dropped, and the blimp floated upwards. At fifty feet, Dice engaged the rear propeller, driven by an electric engine that relied on solar panels for power. Jake, it appeared, had expended a lot of effort in readying the ship for travel before he had decided to stay put.

Erma and her husband watched Dice float off into the sky to the east.

"Well," she said. "You finished telling him about Silver Lake, I trust."

"Huh? Oh, well, you said you told him about Silver Lake."

"No, I started telling him about it. I never got to finish with all you're 'come look at this engine' ranting."

Jake's face corkscrewed into concern.

"Erma, you warned him not to go over Silver Lake, didn't you? You told him to go around to the north or south, right?"

"I most certainly did not. I never had the chance."

Jake cupped his hands and shouted toward Dice so high above.

"DICE! STAY AWAY FROM SILVER LAKE!"

Dice, far ahead, placed a hand to his ear to try to hear their yells.

"STAY AWAY FROM SILVER LAKE!"

Dice shouted a repetition of what he thought he heard.

"THE WAY IS SILVER LAKE! GOTCHYA!"

"Oh Dear, he's heard us wrong," Jake lamented as the Toasty Tart blimp sailed off to the east.

Erma shook her head in disappointment.

"And he was such a nice boy, too."


	9. Hot Air

**9. Hot Air**

From his position high in the blue afternoon sky onboard the Toasty Tart blimp, Dice could see for miles. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. The desert-like wastelands lapped against fields of swamp to the south, a patch of forest here, the remains of a vacant village there, and a row of mountains to the east.

Other than that, not much to speak of.

Dice kicked back and let the prevailing wind carrying him along. That, he realized, had been the story of his life.

On Second Earth the prevailing wind had been women and life-threatening missions. In the early days it had seemed almost like heaven to a young Dice. He had a little bit of a cowboy in him, sure. So leading drop operations into Blue-infested areas had been a blast; literally. Driving Shrikes, shooting missiles, killing the big ugly bugs…it used to make his blood boil with excitement.

Back on Second Earth during the weeks between missions and the hours between training sessions, Dice had found he had a talent with the ladies. What young man wouldn't have wanted to be the object of desire for so many?

Yet as Dice looked back on those years, he figured that Jake Donner was right: life on Second Earth was slowly killing the human race. Dice realized that when fooling around was as common as lunch, it lost its taste. With no true feelings behind the encounters it all became routine and cheap.

As for the missions…what had started as exciting battles grew into gory escapades that seemed to have no meaning. What was the point? A dozen men killed to secure an oil cache; another dozen chopped to pieces while observing Blue nests; a dozen more thrown away to grab medical data on b-cell infected 'Sleepers'. But who cared because there were tens of thousands of sleeping warriors tucked away on the medical ship. Loose a dozen, wake up a dozen more.

After a while, Dice had found the missions no longer made his blood boil. Just like the women, they had grown routine but in a horrifying way. At some point it had become usual to watch a man get chopped in half or see a woman rolled into a 'human dumpling.'

It was like a drug. A mind-numbing drug. Dice had lost all feeling in his heart and his mind. As he looked back at it all, he came to realize he had become a robot.

A chilled breeze whipped through the gondola. The ship rocked. Dice jumped to his feet and walked to edge of the basket as if hoping the view of yet another stretch of barren steppes might chase away the memories that had seeped into his mind. Not memories of the routines of Second Earth, but the memory of the person who had changed it all for him.

"Ah baby," he whispered to the wind. "I miss you."

She had cut through all the mind-numbing missions and passionless sex. She had found that place inside the robot where a heart still beat. And Dice still could not figure out how she had done it.

She was beautiful, to be sure. But not the most beautiful.

A quick wit and a good shot; a wry sense of humor and a mind for all things mechanical and stubborn nature that sometimes drove him to the point of insanity. But none of that had been what had drawn Dice to her smile.

Yes, he remembered now. She had had dignity. Self-confidence, but not like a bully. A sense of her own being.

Her voice haunted from the hanger observation deck after another gruesome mission. He could still see her holding a wrench in one hand with a blotch of grease on her cheek.

_I don't want to do this anymore, Dice. It's all for nothing._

What she had said had been treason. But she had said those words with such plain truth that he had immediately known that she was right. That it was all for nothing. That it was time they didn't do 'this' anymore. It was time to cut the puppet-strings from Victor, the High Council, and all the others up there who were fooling themselves.

He remembered standing there for a long second, just gaping at her; shocked and surprised that she could float the idea of deserting so bluntly.

_I'm not coming back from the next mission. I don't think you should, either._

_Nina, do you know what you're saying?_

But, of course, he knew she knew what she was saying. She had never minced words. She did not play games. The only thing in all her life she had ever pretended had been to pretend that she fit in on Second Earth. But she didn't. Oh, she was an expert mechanic and a damn good pilot but she was above it all. Yes, _above_ it all. She was too real for the phoniness there. Too real to become a robot.

Dice hung his head. He watched the oblong shadow of the air ship float over a rural road that cut alongside a farm where the farmhouse had long since burned to the ground.

He put a hand over his eyes. They stung. He felt a salty water there as the flood broke over the emotional dam he had long ago built around the deep wound in his soul.

So they had purposely separated themselves from the drop operation, called in a phony distress call, left one Shrike behind in a smoking pile so as to cover their getaway, and left.

Dice always found it funny that they had had to go to such lengths to hide their escape. The Second Earth military would not think twice about abandoning soldiers for the sake of a mission. Dice lost count of all the faces that had been left behind to their doom because they were late for a transport or had become too injured to walk on their own.

But deserters? Victor and Doug and even Amick….Dice knew those bastards would sacrifice a hundred men to bring one renegade to court martial.

Their ploy had not entirely worked. They had gotten free, but their commander had realized they had not been killed but, rather, had fled. Maybe it had been all the missing emergency packs, or the overabundance of small arms munitions Dice had taken on patrol, or maybe the rest of the robots had come to realize that Dice and Nina were no longer mechanized automatons for the High Council to abuse.

The two lovers had then spent weeks dodging patrols and ignoring radio calls demanding they return.

Eventually, just as the two had hoped, the Second Earthers lost the trail. Not long after, they had taken residence not far from the supply depot. There they had spent a good year together.

_One good year._

Dice pulled the hand from his eyes. Streaks of tears glinted in the morning sun as he stared toward the sky above. He could nearly see her auburn hair and brown eyes looking down at him.

Would she approve?

He tried to find the answer to that question in the last words that had come from her lips. Words burned into his mind so permanently that he could still hear their echo.

_I'm sorry we didn't have longer, Dice. At least it meant something. It was…it was worth it, even if it didn't last._

It had taken him another year to finally get the Blue that had killed his love. But it would take much, much longer for the pain to fade.

---

Hours of flying across nothingness in a helium-filled dirigible did not play well with Dice's stomach. However, a sight on the horizon made him feel much better.

_Looks like we're just about there._

Dice could see the glittering waters of a small lake nestled in the center of a patch of barren, red rock mountains. He realized why Jake and Erma thought of the place as "silver" lake, for the late-afternoon sun reflected in shiny shivers off a calm surface.

It looked peaceful. Relaxed. The type of place maybe Dice would like to hide away at. A place to spend the rest of his…of…his…

Dice hurried to the bow of the gondola and squinted. The sharp, rocky walls surrounding the lake were lined with holes.

Caves? 

Surrounding the entryways were patches of green and yellow.

"Oh crap."

Next, Dice's eyes were fooled by an optical illusion. For a moment, he thought the entire ground moved. Then his eyes adjusted and he realized it was not the ground that moved but, rather, the coating of Blue that swarmed over the entire lakeside.

The blimp drifted out over the water of Silver lake. The Blue screamed up at him from below. A chorus of hisses and roars.

Suddenly, the roars and calls of the enraged Blue Choppers, Tankers, and Double Boats stopped as if turned off by a switch. For several seconds the only sound came from a soft wind buffeting against the sides of the ship, gently rocking the craft side to side even as it drifted forward lazily, pushed by a slowly rotating propeller.

Then a new sound came. First low, then louder. A buzzing that became a drone that became a roar.

Flying Blue Man Eaters poured out from the caves like angry hornets from a hive. They streamed in one continuous strand and formed a swarm two hundred yards to stern.

Dice pushed the throttle to 'full'. The propeller on the blimp increased rotations. The bow bent slightly down as the propulsion gave the whole ship a kick in the rear. Dice steered the craft higher, hoping for more altitude.

The Blue broke into flights of three and made attack runs, racing upwards toward the back of Dice's banana-shaped basket. He grabbed the gattling gun and slid it along its guide rail until at the stern.

_I'm gunna take a few of you sonofabitches with me._

He activated the gun. The barrel spun then spat heavy caliber rounds.

Quaid did not have to hit the core to get the job done. The sheer punch of the gun was enough to break apart flying Blue and send them falling to the ground.

The first one dropped. Then the second. Then the third, just ten yards from the ship.

Another trio of attackers rushed forth. Dice sprayed them with more fire. Blobs of dead Blue in broken pieces fell down on the eastern edge of 'Silver' lake.

As they had often done over the years, the Blue changed tactics. Instead of charging forward, they broke ranks and flew to surround the blimp. Dice dragged the gun around the gondola, firing all the time. The clumsy weapon bucked and heaved in his grasp but his shots hit more of the flying attackers. Exoskeletons splintered. Gored Blue disintegrated.

"Come on! Come on you bastards! Dicey's got something for ya'!"

They charged in from three sides.

The gattling gun sounded less like a firearm and more like a buzz saw; a continuous mechanical whirl. Hot flashes shot from the barrel. The pistol grips in Dice's hand grew warm.

Smash. Crack. Splat.

One…two…five Blue dropped from the sky.

Click.

"Shit."

Dice grabbed one of the spare ordnance crates. He worked fast to attach another long band of ammunition to the blaster. He heard the chorus of fluttering Blue wings grow louder and closer.

The gondola swayed harshly just as Dice clicked into place a belt of ammo.

He raised his head and saw two of the massive Blue flyers land on the rim of the carriage, their heads bent low so as to avoid the balloon above.

"GET…"

Dice dragged the gun on its rail into the shadow of the insect-like giants.

"OFF…"

He pulled the trigger. The Blue roared.

"MY…"

Bullets tore into the belly of the first beast and then the second. They screamed in agony and tumbled off.

"BLIMP!"

Dice did not stop firing. The swarm of Blue had closed to point blank range. He fired, slid the gun, and fired again.

Monster parts—legs, jaws, claws and worse—fell from the sky like sick rain.

Dice dared a glance to the west. Silver lake faded in the distance but not fast enough. More Blue flew out from the caves there and raced toward his ship.

Three came within range of his gun, but as he fired they veered high, trying to get above his firing arc and to the top of the dirigible. Dice's shots got them before they could. All three suffered mortal wounds. But one—carried by its own momentum—slammed into the top of the airship before its lifeless hulk pinwheeled toward the ground so far below.

A warning light chimed from the blimp's control panel. Jake had explained all the warning lights and controls to Dice but Quaid did not need the warning light to tell him his balloon had been punctured: he could hear the hiss from above.

"Urrrggg!"

More Blue closed in but Dice could not ignore the leak. He left the gattling gun, grabbed the only other weapon on board—a light assault rifle—and also took the emergency patch kit.

Dice took hold of the forward mooring rope and climbed hand over hand up and over the front nose of the ship. He did his best to ignore the hard ground some five thousand feet far below and, instead, focused on climbing with the rifle slung on one shoulder and a backpack with the patch kit on the other.

He reached the top and immediately spied the damaged spot. Not a big hole, but enough. He tried not to think about the sound of nearing Blue wings but that was hard to do.

Dice stood and wobbled over to the hole near the bow of the blimp. Walking on the balloon was very difficult; it was soft and springy like an air mattress.

He knelt and examined the hole. The rubbery outer surface of the air ship had been torn as well as the inner cocoon. Between the two was another layer that Jake had put in as part of one of his many modifications. This was a layer of thin metal strips and wires, all part of the ship's most powerful defensive mechanism, albeit a defense of last resort.

Dice recalled Jake's words:_ "I've rigged it so that it probably won't cause all the helium to explode if you use it. Probably."_

The blimp trembled. A Blue voice howled.

Dice grabbed the rifle, turned, and faced a flying Blue that walked across the top of the balloon directly toward him.

He took careful aim, spotted the core, and blasted the beast. It dropped then rolled off the ship, disappearing over the side. More Blue, however, dive-bombed toward top of the balloon.

Dice put down the rifle and bent the damaged metal plate into position. He then carefully twisted together the electrical wires that had been severed by the impact.

The blimp rocked again. Then again.

Dice fired his rifle, needing a dozen rounds to find the cores of two Blue.

He returned his attention to the repair job. He grabbed a rubbery patch from the kit, stuck it in place, and poured adhesive over the bandage.

"Not bad, if I don't say so myself."

Dice carefully found his balance and stood.

A Blue landed directly in front of him. Dice raised his assault rifle. The Blue swung one of its massive claws around and clipped the end of the gun, sending it spiraling over Dice's head.

The Blue, almost grinning, extended its massive jaws in preparation of chomping Dice's head off.

Dice remembered what he had seen the guy with the bandages do at Agatha Dwiddle's compound. He did the same.

He punched the Blue in the side of its massive jaw. Unlike that other fellow with the bandages, Dice's slug failed to impress the monster. Worse, Dice grimaced in pain. It felt as if he had punched the side of an Armored Shrike.

However, instead of biting the man's head off, the indignant beast gave Dice a solid smack with the back of its claw. Quaid—much like his rifle a second before—went flying backwards toward the front of the blimp. He landed on the soft surface and skidded, nearing sliding off the bow.

Quaid spat a ball of blood and one tooth out, wiped his wrist over his mouth, and pulled himself to his knees. The enraged Blue stumbled forward, this time ready to finish the job.

Dice, however, had landed within arms reach of his weapon. He grasped it quickly, rolled into a prone position, and fired like a sharpshooter. The first two rounds ricocheted off the hard shell of the Man Eater. The third round hit the core. The creature hissed as it slumped.

"Yes! Score one for Dice! Whoot!"

Before Dice could finish his celebration, five more massive Blue flyers landed on the top of the dirigible.

Dice raised the rifle.

"Eat led you son of a –"

Click.

The monsters roared roars that might have been laughs. They stepped forward, as if savoring the cornered prey.

Dice retreated a pace. He had run out of blimp, however. His next step back would send him over the edge.

He spied one way out. One crazy way. Still, he figured he'd much rather plunge to his death than get gobbled by a Blue.

The mooring rope he had used to climb up the blimp rested at his feet. Dice reached down with both hands, hauled up half the rope, and jumped over the bow, befuddling the Blue in the process.

He swung down on the rope like a hero in a pirate movie, flying under the overhang of the blimp. He let go of the rope and his momentum tossed him into the banana-shaped gondola. Dice landed with a heavy thud.

He barely had time to yelp in pain. Dice scrambled to the control panel and opened the compartment labeled 'high voltage'.

"…_it probably won't cause all the helium to explode if you use it. Probably."_

Quaid spun the charge-up dial and hit the heavy red button. A massive jolt of deadly electricity streamed out from the onboard battery and up into the zeppelin, carried along by those metal plates and wires. The entire balloon glowed like a light bulb for three long seconds.

Dice heard the agonizing howls of the electrified monsters standing atop the ship. Nonetheless, he cringed in fear that the entire rigging would explode.

The lethal jolt faded. Dead Blue bodies rolled off and dropped from the blimp. And Dice Quaid and his ship remained in one piece.

"Well, whattya know?"

He made his way to the stern of the airship and peered toward Silver lake, now far behind. No more flying Blue pursued. He had run the surprise gauntlet.

Dice slumped to the floor of the gondola and grabbed his canteen. He drank deeply then slumped his head against the side rail. He was exhausted. His eyes did not close completely, but they did shrink to slivers.

He sat there and relaxed and listened to the wind. Until another noise interrupted his rest.

Not quite the buzzing sound of the Blue. More like…more like…

_Engines?_

Dice stood. His view to the rear was completely blocked by Second Earth airship. An armed Second Earth airship.

Dice's eyes moved from the missiles under the short wings to the cockpit. The smiling face of Captain Koal glared at him.

A loud speaker announced: "Dice Quaid, I presume? Apparently you already know who I am. I have some good news and some bad news, Mr. Quaid. The good news is that I'm not going to turn you in for desertion. Due to your conversation with Amick Hendar, I am now a fugitive from Second Earth myself. The bad news, Mr. Quaid, is that you're going to wish I did turn you over to the High Council."

A missile fired from Koal's airship and slammed into the Toasty Tart blimp.


	10. Roc and a Hard Place

**10. Roc and a Hard Place**

The pile of canvass and wires and gondola lay on the dusty ground in the middle of what had long ago been a potato farm. A few thin vapors of smoke drifted into the air from the pile of crashed blimp.

A flap of canvass lifted and two arms stretched out, grasping at the dry soil and pulling.

Dice, aching and sore but in one piece, crawled from the wreckage one hand at a time until one of those hands landed upon a polished leather boot.

"Well, Mr. Dice Quaid. That is your name, isn't it? That's the name Amick Hendar told me when she came to arrest me. She told me all about how you apparently stowed away aboard my ship and about how you're a deserter and how you gave her my name before you stole a shuttle and crashed on this miserable planet. Fortunately, my men and I managed to slip away before being secured."

The short, beady-eyed Koal paced holding a pistol. His three men—armed with assault rifles—walked through the wreckage. Dice pulled his head up and surveyed the motley crew, then let his face slump into the dirt again.

Koal continued, "You should really learn to turn off the homing beacon if you're going to steal a shuttle. If I hadn't found you then certainly, sooner or later, a Second Earth team would have found you."

Koal chuckled as he stroked one of his meticulously sculpted side burns.

"Of course, I imagine the end result will be the same."

"Sir!"

One of the men trotted out from the crash holding the container with the vials.

"It's intact, Sir."

Koal took the container, opened it, examined the contents, smiled, and closed it again. He turned his attention to Dice once more.

"Come along, Mr. Dice. You've caused me a whole lot of trouble and before I put you out of my misery, I want to see if we can't find some use for you."

They dragged Dice from the ground and hauled him into the waiting airship.

---

The pendulum on the grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room swung back and forth hypnotically with a gentle tick-tock. The rest of the room was decorated in a comfortable clutter of colorful collector's dolls, Thomas Kinkade paintings, and arrangements of artificial flowers in baskets atop antique oak furniture. If not for the guns pointed at his back, Dice would have felt as if he were visiting a grandmother's home.

However, the man standing near the clock completely ruined the ambiance. He was a very big man with arms as thick as Dice's biceps and nearly no neck to speak of. His entire head was wrapped tight in bandages with the smallest eye slits.

Agatha Dwiddle walked into the room from the adjoining kitchen. A smell of roasting potatoes followed her.

"Well, look at this fine young fellow."

"He's the one who's blown our entire operation," Koal complained to Agatha. "I would have killed him myself, but I thought you should meet him."

Dice defended, "Oh, no, see, there's been a big mistake. I was just flying along and I—"

The grandmother shouted, "SHUT YOUR LYING MOUTH YOU HOOLIGAN!"

Dice did as instructed. However, he noticed a shadow in the kitchen. Someone was listening to the conversation.

Koal had some good news for her.

"I recovered the designer drug and the…oh, what was that other thing? Oh yes, that special corn seed crap."

Agatha did not appear interested in the corn seed but she quickly took the container from Koal and popped open the lid. Her eyes showed great relief as she spied the contents.

"Oh, thank goodness. I did not want to start dealing with those people again. They're so…so…messy. Not polite at all."

Dice blurted, "They just want to eat."

His words caught the attention of everyone in the room. The man with the bandages stepped forward in a threatening manner and let loose a grunt.

Agatha held a hand up, restraining her henchman.

"Now, now, Roc, don't let this hoodlum upset you."

Dice repeated, "Yeah, well, I sorta think I got this figured out. You were using Pa and his bunch to farm opium poppies and mule it down here for you, see? I'm thinking you weren't so much paying them as blackmailing them with food and supplies. Supplies Koal here was stealin' from Second Earth."

"Good heavens," Agatha offered sarcasm. "You are such a clever boy. Did you figure this all out on your own or did you have a tutor?"

Dice ignored her and continued, "But keeping all them people fed and workin' for you was gettin' expensive. So you get your chemist—"

"—my darling granddaughter, yes—"

"—to come up with this drug that takes the poppies and everything right out of the equation. You just, huh, whip up a batch in your laboratory."

"Very easy, yes dear."

Dice scratched his ear, "What I don't get, see, is that you've got this corn seed now that can feed all these people and you just don't give it to them. I mean, what's the point of that?"

Agatha did not answer the question. Instead, she leveled a counter-charge at Dice.

"Now aren't we just a little nosy-rosy? Especially for someone who has been working for that brigand Vladimir. Yes, that's right, old Agatha has sources of her own. I hear you were over at Vladimir's and he sent you on a mission of his own. So now, let's not go throwing stones when you're living in a glass house."

Dice took offense at the insinuation.

"Hey, now, hold it right there, missy. I wanted nothing to do with that Vladimir guy. What is he? A competitor of yours? Another drug runner? Well, he's holding this girl Elena hostage, you see? And if I didn't go and try and get some power cells for his Shrikes, he was gunna either kill her or marry her off to his son."

Dice heard a gasp. It did not come from anyone in the room. No, it sounded as if the eavesdropper in the kitchen had gasped. However, everyone else in the room—from Koal to Roc—were too busy becoming angry to hear.

Agatha snapped, "So Vladimir wants power cells for his Shrikes, is that it? What did he do when you gave him the cells?"

Dice shrugged.

"Well, see, that's the thing, um, when I went to get those cells, Pa's kids were already there and they made off with them. That's when they had me—"

This time Agatha did gasp.

"What? My hearing may be a little less than it used to be, sonny. Did you just say that Pa's people got their hands on Armored Shrike power cells? Is that it?"

"Um…yes."

"GOD DAMN IT!"

Roc growled.

Koal said, "I wonder, Agatha, does that mean they'll be coming for you? I doubt your boy Roc can hold off a bunch of Shrikes. Perhaps you should have given them the corn seed after all."

Agatha paced side to side for several seconds before reaching some kind of decision. She stopped and smiled.

"Roc, put this incorrigible man somewhere safe until I decide what to do with him. Oh and Roc, if he gives you any trouble…SNAP HIS NECK LIKE A CHICKEN BONE."

Roc reached over and grabbed Dice by the arm. Quaid felt as if the metal fingers of a Grapple Shrike had clamped on him. Roc hustled him out of the room with no more effort than a kid carrying a rag doll.

---

The shed they had locked him inside of was lit only by a few pencil-thin streams of light sneaking in through cracks in the metal frame. Those few streaks of light slowly faded as day turned into night.

Dice sat on a three-legged stool in the middle of the empty chamber. The tool shelves had been cleared and only a rusty old lawnmower provided any company. As the sun dropped, so did the temperature. A lonely wind made the bolts and screws holding the shed together creak and groan.

He pulled his crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and it was his good fortune to find a few matches left as well. He held the cigarette to his lips and moved to strike the light, then stopped.

"What?" Dice pulled the smoke from his lips and carried on a conversation with himself.

"Look, I'm not really out of it, am I? Oh yeah, sure, I got to the ground without a scratch and, okay, yeah, Jake and Erma saved my butt from the Blue. But hey, now, look, I'm betting I don't live to see another sunset with the way things are going around here, so I'm not really out of it so I get to have a smoke."

He jammed the cigarette between his lips and raised the match…

"Okay! Okay! Enough! Okay!"

Dice slipped the cigarette back into the pack and shoved it into his pocket with the matches.

"But listen, when I'm about ready to die then I'm having a smoke, I don't care what you say!"

He folded his arms and grunted in frustration at not being able to outrun his conscience.

Dice leaned back on the stool against one of the cold metal walls and let sleep creep in on him. He must have drifted off for all of five minutes when another creaking noise caught his ear.

Not the wind. Something new.

A grunt.

A squeak.

A metal clink.

The door to the shed eased open with a soft squeal.

A female voice: "Hello? Um…are you in here?"

Dice dropped forward on his stool and stood. A girl hovered at the entrance to the shed, back lit by a row of perimeter lights guarding the grounds of the estate.

The girl was Agatha's red headed grand daughter. She wore her hair in a tight bun and sported wire rimmed glasses all while dressed in a sheepskin jacket over a lab coat and slacks. She held something in her hand. A gun. She pointed it, sort of, at Dice as he stepped toward the doorway.

"Hold it right there, mister," she tried to appear threatening but the girl could not look threatening even if she had a bazooka.

"Okay, now, easy does it missy," Dice held his hands palm-out. "Let's not go firing that thing off accidentally."

She stiffened her lip.

"Hey. You. I'll do the order giving and telling and stuff. I overheard that you work for Vladimir. I want you to take me to his place."

Dice scratched his head.

"Um, I don't actually work for Vladimir. I'm just kinda caught up on all this."

"I want you to take me to Tommy."

"Huh? Who?"

"Tommy. Valdimir's son."

"Oh. You mean the kid with the spiked blonde hair and the nose ring?"

She nodded her head. Dice saw something glint in the moonlight: the hint of a tear on her cheek.

"Now whatddya know," Dice smiled. "You and this Tommy kid, Vlad's kid, you two got a thing going?"

"That's none of your business!"

Dice easily swiped the gun from her hand. She jumped and muttered 'oh' but her grip on the pistol had been pitifully weak. Taking the weapon from her had been as easy for Dice as scratching his own nose.

He held it by the barrel in a non-threatening manner and waved it as his frustration boiled over.

"Now listen here, missy, I've had about enough of all this. I was just trying to get myself some gas for my car, see? And then I run into Elena's dad and he gives me the boo-hoo song and dance that Vladimir took his daughter. Well, howdy-do but that just isn't my problem, you know? So I go walking off into the night but that's not good enough cause Vladimir's idiot goon thinks I'm on my way to do the right thing when I wasn't going to do the right thing at all. Understand?"

Dice's fast-talk and befuddling language threw Sheena into a daze. Dice went on rambling.

"So Vladimir tells me he's going to either kill Elena or make her marry his son, _your boyfriend_. But—hold the phone—he'll let her off the hook if I go get some Armor Shrike power cells, see? I do that, waste the pinhead who started all this grief, but before I can scamper off a bunch of backwoods rednecks take the power cells I wanted and they go thinking I work for Vladimir. Does that seem right to you? Does that seem like old Dicey is getting second-helpings on his share of the bad-luck pie? Does it?"

"Uh…"

"So then I come to your place hoping to snag the corn seed to give to the rednecks to get the power cells to give to Vladimir to get Elena out of there and do the whole rescue song-and-dance that I was trying to avoid in the first place. Simple enough, right? RIGHT? But noooooo, I end up in the back of Captain Koal's shuttle back on Second Earth where—_now this is the funny part_—half the crew wants to screw me and the other half wants to kill me."

"It, um, must've been tough for you—"

"So I get out of there in one piece with the stuff I need, drop into a Blue nest, get saved by a granny and grandpa Shrike team and end up riding a friggin' Toasty Tart blimp. I swear to you right now and right here that I will NEVER eat a goddamn Toasty Tart in my life, got it?"  
"What's a Toasty Tart?"

"It ain't important, sweetheart. What's important is that old Dicey boy is done playing the lackey. Let's face it, you came here to get something from me. Oh yeah, I've heard it a dozen times this week. You do this for me, Mr. Dice, and I'll do this for you. Well, I'm doing for Dicey, got it?"

Dice cringed at saying 'Dicey', pounded a fist into his thigh, and insisted, "And I don't want to hear any one else call me 'Dicey' again. Are we clear?"

She meekly nodded.

Dice took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, and gave her his attention.

"Mr. Dice, sir, um, it's really complicated. But, see, me and Tommy—"

Dice held a hand in the air and rolled his eyes.

"You and Tommy have been secretly having a love affair for a while now, but your grandma and his dad are bitter enemies fighting for the drug traffic to Second Earth. Stop me when I miss something."

She added, "Well, um we all used to work together but then things split up and since then I have to sneak to see Tommy and vice versa. We want to run off together. He, and um, me, neither of us, like this whole drug thing. I know I can make things to help people down here and he's got his dad's business sense."

Dice joked, "Not his dad's hair though. Didn't get that."

"Please, um, help me get to see Tommy and I know he'll run off with me and we can help you."

Dice eyed her.

"Help me? How exactly can you help me?"

She had no answer.

"Just like I thought. Nothing in it for Dicey—urrggg—nothing in it for old Dice except doing the right thing, right?"

She nodded, again rather meekly.

"Okay then, sweet heart. Let's go grab that corn seed stuff and the heroine stuff."

"Super 2? What do you need that drug for? I hate that my grandma makes me make that stuff."

"Yeah, well, ole' Vladimir is a drug runner, right? If we get into a pinch it might come in handy to have a bargaining chip. And believe me, little lady, we're going to get in a whole mess of pinches before this things is over."

"How do you now that?"

"Just call it a hunch."

---

Dice and Sheena crept into the quiet main building of Agatha Dwiddle's compound. It had once been a long, wide ranch home but had been turned into one part laboratory.

Sheena raised a finger to her lips to 'shhh' Dice as they inched along the main hallway. As the past one door, Dice heard snoring that could have been mistaken for a thunderstorm.

In any case, they moved forward until arriving at a closed wooden door with a heavy lock. Sheena had the key.

"The stuff you need is in here," she whispered as she eased the portal open.

The lab was a big rectangular room with wide square windows on two different walls and three rows of counters running along the center. Those counters were covered in beakers and microscopes and chemical sinks and Bunsen burners and more. Cabinets with containers of liquids and powders rested in corners. Sheena turned on two small lights.

A chaotic collection of smells drifted across the lab ranging from acidic to sweet, a stark contrast in variety compared to the bland earth tones painted on the walls and surfaces.

Shenna pointed to one counter top at the very center of the room. There rested the container Dice had take from Koal's possession. He strode over to in it big, hurried steps feeling certain that the vials would not be inside.

"Well, whatddya know?"

Dice, after getting a good look at the contents, closed the lid and walked to Sheena again.

"Everything in there?" She asked.

Dice smiled.

"Yeppers. Maybe I'm finally getting some good luck."

The two made to leave the room. The path through the open doorway was blocked.

Roc stood there, stretching his arms high into the air to chase away any of the remaining sleep he had been pulled from. He yawned, sort of, more like a low bellow. His bandages were in place all around his head and face but the muscle-bound man work blue silk pajamas and fluffy bunny rabbit slippers.

Sheena tried, "Oh, um, Roc, it's okay. We just have to—"

Roc grunted in a manner that plainly suggested he was not about to buy any story Sheena was trying to sell. Dice figured Roc was stupid, but not that stupid. Few people were that stupid.

Roc took a step into the room. Dice retreated a pace and, in the process, handed the container to Sheena.

Quaid cringed, "Ah man, this is gunna hurt."

He barely had the words out when Roc's first swing lumbered around like a wrecking ball. Dice saw it coming and raised both hands to block. The impact from the swing still sent him flying backwards. He landed on his rear end and slid a good ten feet between rows of counters.

"Roc! Stop!"

Roc ignored Sheena again. The bandaged-faced bunny-rabbit-slipper-wearing henchman pursued Dice in long strides.

Dice jumped to his feet and met Roc with a right cross.

"OOOOUCCHH!"

Dice held his knuckles—knuckles already sore from punching a Blue the other day—and stumbled backward.

Roc grabbed his shoulders and threw the man over two rows of counters. He slammed into the outer wall not far from the big window and fell to the floor. The vibration sent several beakers smashing to the ground.

"Jesus-crimminies," Dice staggered to his feet, leaning against the wall the whole time.

Roc climbed atop the center most row of counters, jumped to the one closest to Dice, then leapt down through the air like a human cruise missile straight for where Dice stood, leading with his head as if to batter his opponent.

Quaid dove out of the way. Roc's head slammed into the wall causing chunks of plaster to fall.

_Maybe this guy is that stupid._

As Roc pulled his head free from the drywall, Dice glanced about for a weapon. He grabbed a computer monitor, held it above his head, then flung it at Roc.

The behemoth caught the monitor in his own hands, grunted a laugh, then threw the heavy set back at Dice, who dodged just in time. The monitor crashed into a glass cabinet containing chemicals. Beakers full of red, blue, yellow, and green liquids fell together to the floor. The mixture ignited, as volatile chemicals are apt to do.

Dice retreated around the counter. Roc jumped on top.

"What's going on in there?"

Agatha Dwiddle's voice called from somewhere down the hall.

"Sheena. Got get us transportation. I'll meet you outside."

Sheena—wide eyed and overcome with nerves—shouted a question.

"How are you going to get outside?  
Roc took a step forward. He held his arms menacingly wide.

Dice looked at one of the big windows along the outer wall, gulped, and answered, Sheena, "Don't worry. Sooner or later I'm heading outside."

Roc jumped with his arms open like an Eagle swooping down with spread wings. Dice met him with a jab to the chin (ouch) and two shots to the stomach. To Dice, it felt as if he had punched a rolled carpet.

Sheena darted out the door with the container in her hands.

Roc clamped down on Dice's face, a hand on each cheek. He lifted him. Dice's legs kicked air.

Roc spun his prey around in a circle fast then faster. Dice's legs stopped flailing and, pulled by centrifugal force, stuck out behind him.

Roc let go. Dice flat spun across the room, over top a counter covered with pointy objects, and dropped to the floor.

The fire in the corner spread to a counter. Smoke billowed toward the ceiling. Pops and snaps announced the bursting of more beakers, no doubt filled with more volatile chemicals.

Roc ignored the conflagration and marched toward Dice just as that man dragged himself to his feet.

Dice took stock of his situation. No weapons in reach, a fire burning in the corner that threatened to grow into much more, and he fought a man who appeared to have no weaknesses.

_No, wait, every guy has at least one weakness._

Dice kicked Roc directly between the legs, aiming hard for the one spot on every guy that was certain to produce a painful reaction.

Dice's foot made hard contact with…nothing. Not a thing. Just flesh. Apparently, the bandages on Roc's face were not the only grievous wound he had suffered.

Dice paused for a moment and, in a tone of pure pity, said, "Oh you poor bastard."

Roc, enraged at the reminder of his wound, grabbed Dice by the shoulders, picked him up, and threw him out the window. The glass shattered and Dice found himself rolling end over end across dusty ground.

He did not need to look back to know he was being pursued: he heard Roc's footsteps stomp over a layer of broken glass.

Dice ignored the cuts on his cheeks and arms, the ache in his knuckles and legs, and got to his feet and ran. Well, wobbled.

Opposite his position was another structure, it might have once been a horse barn but it appeared dilapidated. Further past waited the outer wall of the compound, probably too high to jump but Dice had no other strategy in mind other than running.

He ran alongside the old stable. Roc pursued, grunting and moaning as he jogged along.

The wall at the end of the compound appeared higher and higher the closer Dice came to it.

Then the wall disappeared.

No, it exploded inward. Chunks of concrete and dust flew inside the compound like a hurricane of destruction.

Dice stopped so fast he stumbled to the ground.

Bright beams of light cut through the cloud of debris where a chunk of wall had once stood. Two big silhouettes rolled into the compound.

Shrikes.

Armored Shrikes.

Dice heard one pilot yell to the other, "Go get em', Billy, I'm right behind ya'!"

Dice dove to his right into an open door to the old stable house just as the two war machines bore down on him. Fortunately, he stayed out of the spotlights of the metal beasts and in the shadows. Roc was not as lucky.

The lead Armored Shrike—a Grapple—moved to stomp Roc. The other raced around firing its main gun.

Dice managed to get a glimpse of one pilot. It appeared to be the guys from Pa's scavenger group. Apparently, that group had stolen the power cells with the intention of hitting Agatha's compound. Dice couldn't blame them, but he also didn't have the time to help. His first priority was to save Elena.

He dashed through the stable and out the other side, running into yet another set of headlights.

Dice raised his hands over his head in anticipation of being blown to smithereens. Instead, a car braked hard to a stop directly in front of him.

"Mr. Dice! It's me, Sheena! Get in!"

Dice raced around to the driver's seat of the old Land Rover and pushed Sheena over to the other side. He hammered the accelerator and circled around the stable, aiming for the newly formed hole the wall to use as an escape route.

"Oh no, Pa's gang is attacking grandma!"

"Does that bother you?"

The car skidded sideways to avoid one of the two attacking Shrikes. Captain Koal's men, on foot with machine guns, fired on it. Neither side appeared to have good aim.

"Well…she is my grandmother…"

Yes, your grandmother the ruthless drug kingpin.

Dice steered forward and past the Grapple. He couldn't believe what he saw. Roc was actually wrestling with the Armored Shrike.

"What the hell does that man eat for breakfast?"

Sheena did not answer.

The car with Dice, Sheena, and the container of vital vials sped out Agatha Dwiddle's compound and into the night.

---

Dice stopped the car at the base of a small, rocky hill. A new day's dawn had just started to rise above the horizon to the east.

In front of Dice waited a decision. A literal fork in the road.

He sat in a car with a full tank of gas. He also had in that car a vial that contained a special genetic corn seed. With the car, the gas, and the corn seed he could take off for some private mountain plateau and settle down for that quiet life he had hoped to find.

If he drove off to the right he could probably find that life. He could just leave the girl and drugs behind and try to forget all about them.

Then there was the road to the left. The road Sheena said led to Vladimir's compound. The road would take Dice to another life-threatening encounter with another scum ball drug lord. And why? To save a girl he had met for a few minutes way back when.

_Yuji would want you to save her._

Yes, true, Yuji had fallen in love with Elena for all of one day. So yes, Dice's old friend Yuji would want the girl to be saved. But Yuji was probably far away up there on Second Earth training to be an expert Shrike pilot and spending his spare time riding the Marlene rodeo.

No, if Dice was going to do the right thing he would do it for himself, not anyone else.

"Mr. Dice, I said the way to Valdimir's place is to the left. Are you listening?"

Dice closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Nina's voice haunted, "_At least it meant something. It was…it was worth it, even if it didn't last."_

"You know kid," Dice said to Sheena. "Sometimes it ain't about how long you live, but how well you do it along the way, got it?"

"Um…no. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Dice put the Rover in gear and steered to the left, "sometimes doing the right thing is its own reward."

The car sped off toward the girl Dice aimed to save.


	11. The Blue to the Rescue

**11. The Blue to the Rescue**

"Ah, yes, Mr. Dice Quaid. You are indeed a clever man. I am even more impressed," Vladimir paced in front of a big bay window that offered a picturesque view of stone formations and wasteland outside of his compound.

Dice watched the man move—more like slither—side to side. The next few minutes would be important minutes.

The two spoke in the billiards room of Vladimir's estate. The drug lord paced with a cue stick in his hand. His son—the kid with the spiked blond hair and nose ring—held his own cue stick and silently shook his head in disapproval.

Dice stood between a pair of Vladimir's goons, one dressed in an old Italian designer suit with a pastel blue shirt underneath that made him look like some stereotype drug runner from the 1980s. That guy held an UZI. The second was bigger and dressed in drab coveralls but sported an interesting girlie tattoo on his neck.

Vladimir waved the cue stick to punctuate his thoughts.

"So, you have come here to offer me a—what? Oh yes, a 'designer drug' of some kind that comes from Agatha Dwiddle's stock. Tell me, Mr. Dice, where is this special drug now?"

Dice folded his arms. This was the clever part of the plan.

"It's nearby."

Vladimir smiled.

"Very good, Mr. Dice. You are so good at all this."

Vladimir glanced about at his men and told them, "You should all watch how this man does things. This is a real man. This is a man of great…of great…oh yes, of great _wisdom._ He has walked back here to this place even after he caused my man Daven to be killed, because he is so certain that he has a very strong chip with which to bargain. Very well then, Mr. Dice. Let me show you my chip of bargaining."

Another goon—this one dressed in green army fatigues—entered from the hallway. He escorted a short woman with striking black hair and big innocent eyes.

"Ah yes, Elena, come and meet the man who has come to save you."

Elena, clearly confused but seemingly unharmed, turned her eyes to Dice.

"Wh-who are you? Are you…wait, you were a friend of Yuji's, weren't you?"

Dice tipped his head.

"Um, that's right missy, we met a ways back."

Elena said with great hope, "Did Yuji send you? Has Yuji come back for me?"

"Ah, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, um, I'm thinking Yuji is in orbit about now."

Dice remembered Marlene's rather firm and well-proportioned frame.

_Yeah, I'm betting that could send a fella into orbit all on its own._

Elena cast her eyes to the ground.

"Yuji…"

"Fear not, young Elena, for Mr. Dice here has come to try and bargain for your release."

"That's right," Dice returned his attention to the matter at hand. "So, whatdya say you let Elena go with me and I'll get you that Super 2 Heroine stuff that'd be good for your business."

"A designer drug," Vladimir repeated what Dice had told him.

"Dad," the kid with the spiked hair—Tommy—grunted, "Just let the girl go. I'm not going to marry her. I don't love her."

Vladimir ignored his son.

"Mr. Dice, there are two problems for which I do not yet see solutions."

"Oh? Gee, what is that?"

"First, I do not yet have the shrike power cells you were sent to get. Second, Elena's father, Jordan, still owes me a debt. This is, of course, why I…why I…why I took his daughter in the first place."

Elena grew angry.

"My father is a loving, peaceful man! He brought you food from the mountains and just because the weather destroyed some of the crop you went and took me! He doesn't owe you a thing!"

"Food?" Vladimir rolled the word around on his tongue with curiosity. "I take it, young Elena, you never accompanied your father to his harvest, hmmm?"  
Dice slapped a hand over his eyes.

"Oh brother, don't tell me."

Elena gasped, "What? What is it?"

"Of course," Dice shook his head. "So, let me get this straight. Old Agatha Dwiddle has got herself Pa's scavengers to be growing and harvesting opium poppies so she could sell them to Second Earth. You and Agatha used to work together, isn't that right? Of course it is. But you split up and became competitors. So you would need your own bunch of farmers and mules for your own heroine."

Elena stumbled, "What are you saying? What do you mean?"

"I'm saying," Dice finished, "you're father does a lot more than herd goats around. He brings Vlad here the opium he needs to make heroine."

Elena wobbled with light-headedness then shouted, "No! That's not true! My father is a wonderful man! We graze our goats and weave sweaters and cook mutton and sing songs! We don't run drugs!"

Dice turned to Vladimir, "She probably really doesn't know, you know?"

Vlad agreed, "Yes, Jordan always said he wanted to protect her…her… um…her innocence."

Dice chuckled, "Yeah, well, Yuji took care of her innocence a few nights ba-- "

All eyes stared at Dice.

He rephrased, "Um, I mean, yes, it's nice of her father to keep her in the dark. So, you see, she doesn't know anything about any of this. Why don't you just let her go and we'll all be friends? And I can give you that designer drug and you won't even need Elena's folks anymore. Whatdya say?"

A commotion broke out in the hallway.

Two more of Vladimir's thugs came in, both in leather jackets and carrying Ak-47 assault rifles. One hauled a container that caused Dice's heart to sink when he saw it. The other grappled with a redheaded woman in a lab coat as she grunted and groaned in his grip.

Vladimir gloated, "This designer drug, hmmm? And a chemist, too?"

"Sheena!" Tommy—the kid with the nose ring—shouted and stepped forward.

"Easy there, my son, this is not your place."

"Tommy!"

The fear and desperation in Sheena's eyes faded for just a moment at the sight of her love.

Dice blurted, "You were supposed to hide in the hills until I finished working things out!"

"Well," she sheepishly admitted, "I thought maybe I could catch a glimpse of Tommy and, you know, be sure everything was okay."

Vladimir laughed a big, hardy laugh and slowly clasped his hands together in a mock clap.

"Oh, so very good, Mr. Dice! You are a clev…clev…a smart man. But not as smart, I dare say, as myself. Your friend here has given herself over to me and all of the chips of which you were to bargain are now in my hands. That would about sum it up, would it not?"

Dice nodded.

"Yeppers. That about sums it up."

"No! Dad!"

The kid with the spiked hair marched fast across the room toward Sheena. One of the henchmen intervened, keeping the boy from Agatha's granddaughter.

"Tommy! I love you!"

Vladimir scowled, "What? What is this?"

Dice informed, "Oh come on, Vlad, you mean you didn't know? Your boy and Agatha's granddaughter have been making with the whoopies. A real Romeo and Juliet thing."

"No! This is forbidden!"

Tommy, held in check by a guard, shouted, "I love her, father!"

The drug lord shook his head violently.

"No! This cannot be! Dwiddle is my sworn enemy! You cannot be with this girl for that would make Agatha family! This is a trick! By Agatha! She has deceived you, my son."

"I love her, father. And she loves me. We've been seeing each other secretly for a year now, sneaking out and meeting at the old depot."

Sheena burst, "That's right!"

Everyone looked to her in anticipation of more words. She shrugged and grew silent.

Vladimir paced again, this time faster. His fingers twitched. His brow furled.

_Uh-oh, this guy is about to blow his top._

Vlad smashed the cue stick over his knee, creating two smaller cue sticks.

"No! My own son? No! You will do as I say, boy! You will marry Elena so that you can be a man. As for this trollop who has deceived you, I will drop her at the Blue nest in the mountains!"

Tommy's face corkscrewed in horror and anger.

"No you will not! I love her! I will not marry Elena."

Vladimir pulled an automatic pistol from his waistband, cocked the slide, and held it to Elena's temple. Dice took a tentative step forward but was halted by the poke of a cold rifle barrel in his back.

Vladimir, clearly crazed, shouted, "You will disavow this trollop and marry Elena, or I will kill this peasant girl and her blood will be on your hands!"

"No Father!"

"Stop you monster!"

"Please don't shoot me!"

The shouts and screams and grunts of anger and fear filled the room to the point of torturing Dice's eardrums. Everything seemed ready to explode and no matter what happened Dice felt certain a bullet would find its way into his chest.

Just as Vladimir appeared ready to pull the trigger, the ground trembled.

Everything stopped.

The big plate glass window rattled.

Dice felt a wave of relief fall over his body.

"Oh thank God," he said. "The Blue."

A massive Tank Beetle smashed into the outer wall of the billiards room, shattering the window and collapsing the outer wall into splinters of wood and plaster. A cloud of dust billowed forth and the hissing scream of the angry Blue filled the room.

The guards opened fire on the beast, trying to hit the core but their weapons were old Earth weapons, not the high powered rifles developed specifically for the Blue and employed by Second Earthers.

With the guards distracted, Dice waded into the chaos. He marched over to Vladimir in fast, lumbering steps and smacked the drug lord in the chin. The fellow fell backwards over his desk.

The green-fatigued henchman that had escorted Elena into the room was knocked off his feet by the rampaging Blue and crushed under one gigantic foot. Elena, next in the path of the beast, screamed hysterically but appeared frozen in place.

Dice swooped her into his arms, threw her over his shoulder and carried the girl out of the thing's direct path. At that moment, bad guy bullets found the core not from skill but from sheer volume: they had emptied one hundred rounds at the invader. One was bound to hit.

Vladimir struggled to his feet but before any one could react to Dice's move, a new threat emerged: a half dozen Blue parading onto the grounds.

"To the Shrikes!" the pastel-wearing goon shouted in a Russian accent.

"You idiot," Vladimir sneered. "We have no power cells!"

Tommy—the kid with the spiked blond hair—made his own move.

While the two guards flanking Sheena gaped out through the hole in the wall at the gathering uglies, Vladimir's boy grabbed his girl's hand and led her toward the exit. Sheena, to her credit, did not forget who had brought her. She waved to Dice who—with Elena still over his shoulder—followed.

The guards moved to the hole in the wall, reloaded their weapons, and began firing, disregarding their captives in favor of the new danger.

Dice appreciated the way in which the monstrous Blue made everyone forget all about everything else. There was something about the threat of being rolled into a human dumpling that made things like the drug business, profit, and petty differences fade away.

With that in mind he paused for a moment, grabbed the container that held the two important vials from Vlad's desk, and handed it to Sheena.

"I don't want this! I hate this stuff!"

"Take it, missy, if you know what's good for us. Now run!"

The fugitives bolted from the billiards room, leaving behind Vladimir and his henchmen as they fired round after round at the approaching mass of Blue.

The four jogged along a hallway.

"Okay kiddies, does anyone have a plan?"

Tommy and Sheena stopped. Elena banged on Dice's shoulder, a clear sign that she wanted down. Behind them, on the far side of a couple of walls, they heard the _rat-tat-tat_ of machine gun fire as well as the roar of Blue. Dice knew they did not have enough time to get into a deep discussion.

Tommy insisted, "We're just going to run away!"

"I see, yeah," Dice scratched his head. A Blue howled somewhere far away.

"Well, kid, listen. We need a plan. I've got a car outside, let's take it somewhere where we can hide out for a spell and think of where to go from here. Right?"

They all nodded, except for Elena. Her eyes appeared distant and angry.

She mumbled, "My father…a drug runner. When I get home I'll give him a piece of my mind!"

Dice thought he should console her, but before he could one of the walls of the hallway smashed down. A Blue chopper with one of Vlad's men in its mandibles crashed through.

"Okay kids! Let's go!"

The foursome raced out the rear of the house onto the dusty grounds of Vladimir Zhukov's estate. Gunfire echoed all around. Shouts. Screams. Howls.

Dice pointed to the Land Rover parked in the middle grounds.

"There's my car! Let's all—"

SMASH.

A huge Double Boat Blue crunched one of its massive, elephant-like legs onto the vehicle, smashing it as flat as surely as if that leg were a junkyard crusher.

The red-eyed devil howled at the four escapees, but a round of shots from one of Vladimir's mercenaries drew its attention in the other direction.

Dice stared at the flattened vehicle.

"Now that just screws the pooch."

"C'mon," Tommy yelled as he led Sheena off to their left. "The stables!"

Dice and Elena followed. The kid led them to a cluster of small buildings that included one well-kept stable area and a maintenance shed.

"I'm not so good with the horses!"

Elena answered Dice; "You can ride with me."

As they past the maintenance shed, Dice saw something familiar. He stopped and grabbed the five-gallon gas container that had started his journey into the insane. He then joined the others in quickly saddling two horses.

"Elena," Dice asked, "Your father said he knew of somewhere I could get gas. Do you know?"

Tommy answered before she could.

"The hidden fuel depot. That's where Sheena and I have been meeting. It has tons of fuel. Everyone around here knows to raid the depot for gas. Problem is, the Blue know to look there for people too."

"Well, seems to me the Blue found us here anyway and I damn well need some gas. So get us there, kiddo."

Dice spied a weapons locker in the stable room and took a moment to retrieve a rifle for himself as well as two clips of ammunition. Not much, but it would do better than nothing.

Tommy and Sheena got onboard a chocolate colored mare while Dice joined Elena atop a black and white stallion. The four galloped away from Vladimir's estate and off into the wastelands in search of a gas station.


	12. Beginning of the End

**12. The Beginning of the End**

Tommy Zhukov rode the lead horse with his lover, Sheena, riding behind, with one arm loosely holding the valuable storage container with the special corn seed and designer drug inside. Her other arm held tight around Tommy's waist in a loving embrace. Elena steered the second horse with Dice riding behind, his hand anxiously clutched to her waist as if holding on for dear life.

Dice had faced down more than his share of Blue all while keeping his fear in check, had fought bands of armed men with courage, and had struggled to survive on the wasteland of Earth while maintaining his sense of humor. Yet riding on a horse gave him a terrible fright. He kept his eyes closed half the time.

The foursome's escape from Vladimir's estate to the hidden fuel depot took about an hour of riding time, mostly through dark, cramped canyons and hidden woodland paths. Dice realized that the well-concealed paths not only allowed the two kids to avoid the hunting eyes of Blue during their secret rendezvous', but had also made it much more difficult for anyone to follow them to learn of the affair. Dice wondered if their love would last if the thrill of sneaking around were lost.

Regardless, the journey finally reached its end. The cloud of dust that had surrounded the galloping horses dissipated as the steeds came to a halt. As the yellow and brown haze cleared, Dice saw what he had been looking for since this whole thing had begun: a gas station.

A set of fuel pumps sat under a small roof with a hybrid garage and office building nearby, all part of the remains of a service station from man's old world. That station rested atop a patch of cracked and torn concrete. An access road led away, no doubt toward the remains of some leftover highway.

Dice cast his eyes around the area. He saw the remains of a toppled chain link fence around an old cistern adorned with a blue and white Russian oil company logo. He also saw a scorched, jack-knifed fuel truck at the trim of the concrete lot not far from one of the rocky slopes that surrounded the isolated depot. Over the years, boulders from those slopes had avalanched down into the lot, making it seem as if giants played a game of marbles there.

On one side of the station not far from the solitary garage bay door were the remains of several stripped automobiles. Scavengers had made good work of the vehicles' innards, leaving behind nothing but frames that gave Dice the impression of bones picked clean by vultures.

One look at those cars and Dice knew--_he knew_--that Pa's scavengers had been at the depot at some point. Dice suddenly felt vulnerable, despite how isolated and alone the depot felt.

"Hey, kiddies, let's get this show--"

Tommy and Sheena both--in unison--gave Dice a 'shhh'.

The boy with the spiked hair explained: "I told you, the Blue know about this place, too. They've got a nest somewhere north of here."

Dice nodded his head. It made sense that there would be a Blue nest nearby not only because such was Dice's fortunes, but also because a full cistern of gasoline should not still be so readily available after so many years. Only the presence of Blue could scare away the type of large-scale salvage operation that would be required to carry off all that precious liquid gold. No doubt even Pa's expert scavengers would balk at the idea of being turned into Blue balls, even over so much fuel.

Little drops at a time? Sure. But to bring in a heavy truck and spend a couple of hours draining the tank? No thank you.

Tommy and Elena guided the horses forward at a slow trot. The rays of a late afternoon sun cast the shadows of the surrounding stone peaks and sharp hills across the gas station. A lonely wind kicked a swirl of dust and a distant bird--probably a vulture but maybe something else--called in a harsh squawk.

Dice got the distinct feeling that everything seemed _too_ quiet.

In a hushed voice he encouraged, "Let's get moving. I get my gas, you get me to my car, we say so long. Right?"

The others did not answer. He took that as a 'yes'.

The two horses and their four riders eased under the cover of the gas pump island.

Dice--gas container in hand and a rifle slung over his shoulder--slowly, cautiously, slipped from the horse, worried that the beast might just give him a kick. When safely on the ground, Dice let loose a sigh of relief.

Tommy and Sheena dismounted as well; the latter held the important storage container that carried the vial of enhanced corn seed as well as the designer drug.

"My father has come here over the years to get some supplies," Elena informed. "That is how he knew this place would have gas for you."

"Uh-huh," Dice agreed. "Of course, he didn't say anything to me about a Blue nest lurking around. Hey, wait, um, why would your father need supplies from here? I thought he was kinda like living off the land and whatnot."

"We have taken metal for melting into pots, clothes, that sort of thing. My father has been cultivating a new life off the land."

Dice spoke before thinking: "He-he, he's been cultivating more than that."

Elena sobbed, placed a hand over her eyes, and darted off. She pushed open the gas station door and bolted inside.

Dice slapped a hand over his eyes.

Good work, Dice. Proud? 

He sighed again and followed her inside.

The interior was damp and smelled of animal piss. The office area he entered stretched to the rear of the building with a few grimy windows placed here and there. A dull glow fought through the muck on those windows to provide small patches of light but most of the place remained dark. That was okay, because there wasn't much to see.

Dead fluorescent light fixtures hung from a metal and concrete ceiling. Some rather persistent green and red vines pushed in from the roof through cracks in the aging ceiling. Dice figured if he had managed to survive on this rock of a planet for so long, certainly some weeds could.

A busted filing cabinet, a pile of wood that had once been a table, an empty and smashed water cooler, and two intact metal desks were all that remained of the garage office's furnishings.

Grease stains on the gray cement floor reminded that this had once been a place where mechanics and technicians had worked. A large and broken observation window looked in on the garage area next to an open door. It was even darker in the repair bay than the office but Dice could see right off that no vehicles waited in there.

Dice put down his gas container and approached Elena who stood near one of the side windows sobbing.

"Awe, gee, now honey I didn't mean nothing by that."

Dice walked up behind her. His mouth opened. His head tilted. His eyes widened, then tightened, then looked to the ceiling. Yet, he still could not think of words to say. So he stumbled a little more.

"Now I, um, am just sure that, well, your dad just did what he had to do to, you know, survive and all. Hey, we all do what we gotta do to get by, right?"

"My father is a good man. We herd goats and live off the land. We are not drug runners!"

"If it means anything to you, missy, just about everyone shares a little guilt in all this. Vladimir sells the stuff, so does Agatha Dwiddle, and those scavenger of Pa's been growing and running poppies, too. On top of all that, you got those folks up on Second Earth that are buying all the shit. Guess they're getting what they want."

Elena blabbered, "My father…my…father. MY FATHER!"

She stopped blabbering and put a finger against the window.

"Now, calm down…"

"My father is right there!"

"Huh?"

Dice leaned forward and peered through the dingy window. He saw a line people moving through one of the surrounding foothills along a rocky path. Actually, he saw people and goats.

"Well, whatddya know, how'd he get here?"

Elena growled, "He must have figured that if you went to get me that sooner or later I'd bring you here for that gas you wanted. Well, now I get a chance to go give him a piece of my mind. I'm going to--"

Something caught the girl's eye. Her mouth hung open in a gasp.

Dice followed her gaze once more.

Jordan--Elena's father--and his group brought more than goats to the gas station. They were armed; armed with heavy machine guns. Much more than the shotguns Dice knew the group carried for hunting.

Elena barked, "Guns! Now he's toting guns?"

Dice could see those weapons to be of a military nature.

"Oh, now howabout that," he scratched his head as he tried to wrap his brain around this one. "I'll betchya your dad went and grabbed them guns off those mercenaries who tried to rough you folks up a while back."

Elena, still in disbelief, absently nodded, "We found their cabin in the mountains destroyed by Blue. But my father told us to pass it by. He said they were from a different world to which we didn't belong."

Dice chuckled but not kindly.

"Oh now see here, missy, that's the thing about all this. Sooner or later the world comes and finds you."

Elena summoned her courage, rolled her tiny hands into fists, and stomped toward the front door. Dice followed a moment later.

"Well this is good," he said as he followed her to the front. "Now you can go on back with your daddy and work things out. Why, I bet that'll be a nice family meal over mutton."

Dice and Elena joined Tommy and Sheena at the front near the gas pumps. Jordan and his group of nomads reached the bottom of the foothills, close enough to wave but too far to speak.

Dice heard the jingle of the goat bells. He heard the whir of Shrikes. He heard the--

Shrikes? 

As they walked out the front door, their attention was focused toward Elena's dad's group over to their left. The sound of moving Shrikes came from the right.

Two beat up old Shrikes came from that direction. One--a grapple--sprouted small puffs of smoke from recently inflicted wounds, another--an old Heavy Duty--dripped something that was either hydraulic fluid or lubricant. Dice did not have the time to discern much more, for the armed Shrike raised its weapon and fired. Poorly aimed shots ricocheted off the gas station walls.

Jordan and the people of his group retreated to the cover of boulders and cliffs along the side of the hill they had just descended. The goats just stood there in a group looking like the dumb, direction-less animals they were.

The Grapple Shrike rolled forward toward the station. The driver shouted: "This here place is belonging to Pa! Everything here is all ours!"

Dice grabbed Elena and pushed her back inside the garage. Tommy and Sheena followed. The horses they had been holding trotted off to get out of the crossfire.

Quaid slammed the door shut behind them, although he realized that it would not take long for the Grapple to punch through the walls of the building.

BLAM.

The building shook and dust fell from the ceiling. Dice heard the wheeled Grapple retreat.

"You stay away from my Elena!"

The shout came from Jordan.

"What happened?" Elena shouted as her eyes darted back and forth in confusion.

Dice told her: "Hehe, I think your dad just hit that Grapple with a grenade from one of those assault rifles he took from the dead mercenaries."

Instead of being relieved at her father's well-timed shot, the realization that her dad had just fired a grenade launcher in anger pushed Elena further toward the brink of total collapse.

Sheena, equally as dumbfounded, leaned in Tommy's grasp and wondered, "What is going on? I thought Pa's people were attacking my grandmother?"

Dice scratched his chin.

"Well, yeah and all. Guess they got chased off or something. Their rides look a little beat up and all. Maybe they came here to use the service lift in the garage to fix the Shrikes up. I dunno. Honestly, I think that bunch is just so stupid they don't know what they're doing."

"Um, Mr. Dice," Tommy hesitantly broke in. "If they're out there to the right, couldn't we just slip out the back and go over to the hills where Elena's dad is?"

"Hey, good thinking kiddo. You lead the way."

Sheena smiled at her man, gave him a peck on the kiss and then Tommy strode off in big confident steps to the back door. He opened it.

A shiny new Heavy Duty Shrike and two Jeeps--one with a mounted gattling gun--hurried toward the garage from the open plains back there. A burst of fire from the gattling gun slammed into the rear wall of the garage. Tommy slammed the door and collapsed to the ground.

Dice mumbled, "I thought so."

While Sheena hurried to her now-shaken boyfriend, Elena asked Dice, "how'd you know someone was out there?"

Dice thought back to everything he had gone through in the last few days.

"It just sorta figured."

Sheena peeked out the window and exclaimed, "That's Captain Koal in the Shrike, his men in one Jeep and--"

Dice finished, "--and Agatha Dwiddle with Rock and the gattling gun. Right?"

She nodded and said, "They probably chased Pa's mechs this way after Koal got his out of his ship."

Elena, her mind hard at work, shared, "Pa? I knew that name sounded familiar. My father had a falling out with a Pa years ago. We've had some run-ins with them."

"Of course, shit-yeah," Dice summarized. "When Agatha and Valdimir had a falling out, so did their drug couriers. Oops," he glanced at Elena and her wide, frightened eyes. "Let's call them, well, goat-herders, right?"

Tommy tried to catch up.

"So…so this Pa guy and Elena's dad don't like each other?"

"Right."

"So, they're probably going to start shooting at each other?"

"Right. That is, hehe, if they don't get a clear shot at us."

Sheena said, "And my grandmother was just fighting with Pa's gang, so she might just start shooting at Pa's boys, too."

Dice shared, "And Elena's dad, too."

"What?" came a collective chorus.

"Aw, c'mon you kids, grow up. She don't need Pa's people anymore cause she wants this here genetic drug thingy and she'll kill us to get it."

Dice pointed at the carrying case Sheena had brought into the garage when they had been chased in by the fire of the Shrikes.

He went on, "And if she kills off Vladimir's mules--I mean, goat herders--then that puts Vlad out of business. Can you say monopoly on the drug business? As for Koal, that little weasel will do whatever he can to stay in Agatha's good graces now that he's stuck planet side. Besides, he's got a couple of henchmen and a shrike. He can do a lot of damage. Hehe, to us all."

"So wait one second," Elena held a finger in the air and tried to connect the dots; her mouth hung open as if searching for the breath with which to speak.

Dice interrupted, "No, no, don't bother, missy. We don't have time for a summary. Just think of this way: everyone out there would just love to blast us for all sorts of reasons and, by the way, everyone out there would also just love to blast each other."

Elena snapped her mouth shut.

Tommy, who had wandered over near the front door, asked, "Mr. Dice, how do you figure my father fits into all this?"

Dice shrugged, "I dunno. He's mad at Elena's dad for screwing up the poppy--I mean, the goat herding operation and stuff. He don't like Agatha at all and that means he don't like Pa's group at all, either. He sure as hell don't like me, either and--yeppers--he'd like to get his hand on this designer drug, too. Oh yeah, he hates the idea of you making hay with Agatha's grand daughter, too. Why do you ask?"

Tommy pointed out one of the dirty front windows.

"Cause he just pulled up in a couple of SUVs. I think his men brought a rocket launcher, too."

Dice hurried to the front and saw for himself.

Vladimir and a half-dozen of his goons parked near the access road and took cover behind their cars.

"Mr. Dice! You are not so clever! You double-crossed me! We had a bargain! No one betrays me!"

A shout from the hills: "Leave my daughter alone, Valdimir! Or I'll kill you!"

Elena nearly fainted at the sound of her father threatening violence.

"Sheena, honey, yoo-hoo," the old woman's voice came from the rear. "Why don't you come on out here, honey. I miss you. Oh, do you have the Super 2 with you? Bring that out too, deary. Come on and I'll make you all a pan of brownies."

Dice heard the distinct sound of the gattling gun swiveling on its mount, no doubt to get a better shot at the rear door. Dice figured old Agatha was done playing games and that she calculated the designer drug to be worth more than her grand daughter.

The sound of approaching vehicles echoed through the rock-encircled bowl-like clearing where the drama unfolded.

Dice managed to catch a glimpse of a small truck joining the two damaged Shrikes. He saw Pa himself and a few more of his scavengers take up position by those war machines.

The old fellow hollered, "Hey Dennis! I know you're in there! Now you git on out here or I'm gunna have my boy Billy smash down dem walls with this big old machine!"

Vladimir's voice countered, "You will be doing no such thing you! My son is in there and he will be coming out of there this instant!"

"I just want the Super 2, Sheena, honey. Just hand it over before I have Roc BLAST YOU TO SMITHEREENS!"

"No! My precious Elena is in there! If anyone shoots at that building they will be shot at by me!"

The competing shouts stopped. Dice figured the folks out there had said all they felt like saying. Soon bullets would do the talking.

Tommy noticed the same and observed, "Got kind of quiet out there."

"Yeah, kiddo, well it seems…it seems…"

Dice's words drifted away as something caught his eye. It was one of the windows that grabbed his attention. That window vibrated, just a little.

He held still and closed his eyes.

_Yeppers, that's a tremor in the ground. Guess who's joining the party, kiddos._

Dice sighed.

_So this is how it ends…_

He knew he was a strong man who could handle most folks in a straight up fight. He also knew that while he certainly was not smart, he had been clever enough to survive all these years on an Earth over run by Blue.

Despite all that strength and experience, the events of the last few days had tossed him around as if he were a drowning man caught in the surf.

_And so this is it._

He had survived all the drop operations during all those years as a soldier and Armor Shrike pilot. He had survived in his isolated cabin in his own little corner of an Earth overrun by Blue. He had survived driving Yuji and Marlene across half of dead Russia.

_All so that it could end—what—in a gas station?_

_How did it come to this?_

He tried to shake his head in disgust but he spotted movement from outside the window. Someone had darted between a big rock and an overturned, burned out truck. Probably someone trying to get a better sniping spot. Maybe one of Vladimir's guys. Possibly someone from Elena's dad's group.

The feeling of being a caged rat flowed over Dice. Strangely enough, as much as it bothered him to know that the and surely approached, it bothered him more to know that he was not alone in that cage.

Quaid glanced about the garage.

Vladimir's boy--Tommywith the spiked blonde hair and the nose ring--was peeking out one of the side windows trying to get a handle on exactly what they were up against.

_You don't want to know kid. _

Tommy's forbidden girlfriend Sheena-- the red headed woman in the lab coat--alternated looks between Tommy and the rear window.

_More of 'em out there, too, honey._

As for Elena, she showed her superior brainpower by taking cover behind one of the metal desks.

Dice hoped that a bullet from one of the humans got her. She didn't deserve to be wrapped into a meat dumpling when the Blue got there. Hell, he didn't deserve that either.

_Hope the damn things choke on me._

Still, Elena had been through so much. It was only—what?—less than a couple of weeks ago when she had thought Yuji was going to ride off into the sunset with her. In that time she had not only had her heart broken, she had been kidnapped and shot at and learned that her father was not exactly who he had always claimed to be.

The poor girl had had enough misery.

More movement from outside. Dice crouched down behind the window pane, steadied his rifle, and looked.

He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't a sniper or a Blue. Just one of Jordan's goats walking around. The bell around its neck jingled and jangled as it trotted across the soon-to-erupt battlefield.

Lamb chops…mmm… 

Still, in between the mound of jagged red rock to the left, the overturned tanker truck in the middle and the scattered boulders in front there had to be a good dozen men: men taking orders from Elena's father, others taking orders from Vladimir.

On the other side by the fenced off motor pool area and junkyard there might have been another dozen waiting to do Pa's bidding. That group included those two beat-up old Shrikes.

Dice was not sure if they were going to start shooting at him first or each other. He know which he would prefer…but he figured they would—

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The first volley of bullets smashed windows, chipped away chunks of wall, and sent all of the occupants to the floor with their hands over their heads.

The _rat-tat-tat_ of the machine gun continued for several seconds. The rounds whizzed overhead.

Elena screamed. Dice wasn't sure, but he thought he might have, too.

_Man, I hope none of these ladies heard that._

Then came a very heavy _thump._ The bullet that caused that sound was no ordinary round. It was an explosive shell from an Armor Shrike.

That explosive shell did just that—exploded—against the rear of the building. The wall there shook and one of the cross beams holding the not-so-stable roof in place slipped to the floor. A cloud of dust billowed through the station.

Dice crawled to the rear. The bullets—from both sides and out front—stopped.

For the moment.

Dice managed to open the rear door just barely enough to look to the back of the garage.

Back there was little more than wasteland and the rotting corpses of cars and trucks left over from the days when the garage had been part of a larger fuel depot.

There was, of course, an Armor Shrike back there. It was one of the new Heavy Duty types. It looked very lethal. Captain Koal sat in the cockpit. That man was pretty much pissed off at Dice, a fact reaffirmed as his voice echoed from the vehicle's loudspeakers: "Dice! Come out of there now! I owe you!"

The competing shouts for Dice's head began again.

Vladimir: "Dice! You come out _here!"_

And…

Pa: "No! He's ours! He double crossed us!"

Quaid crawled away from the back door and moved toward the front. As he did, a new sound broke the silence.

He recognized the sound.

_Now what?_

It was the sound, of course, of an air ship. A Second Earth Air Ship.

He heard the retro jets fire and then the soft crunch of springs as the landing gear touched ground. That, of course, was followed by the sound of a ramp opening then the gentle whir of the wheels of another Armor Shrike.

Dice dared a look through the front windows.

It was a kind of Armor Shrike he had never seen before. Two big appendages above its head, like razors. Or edges. Two of them.

You might even say it had double edges.

A voice boomed from that Armor Shrike as well.

"Attention groundlings. This is Amick Hendar of Second Earth. The criminal Dice Quaid is to be handed over to me this instant or I shall take him by force."

Dice placed a hand over his eyes.

"Who is that?" Tommy asked.

"Who's that? That, kid, is what it sounds like when your past catches up to you."

"W-wait a sec," Sheena stuttered. "What are we going to do?"

Dice sighed. He hated being the bearer of bad news.

"Well, missy, I'm hoping we take a few bullets pretty soon."

Elena, from behind the desk, was aghast.

"Hoping we take bullets? Why would you hope that?"

"Um, hehe, uh, well you see, do you feel that little hint of a vibration in the floor? Listen real close and maybe you can feel it. I've been feeling it for a few minutes now."

Sheena guessed: "The-the Blue are coming? Why? Why?"

"Oh now Missy, you're a real brainiac, aren't you? You gotta know the Blue just love an all-you-can-eat set up like this. Ahh well, I hope none of you were countin' on living forever cause the long and the short of it is that we've all had our last meals."

Dice carefully, cautiously stood up again in a corner near the front of the room while the rest of his trapped brethren sat with shocked faces. They all figured death was coming. Death from explosive shells, death from bullets, or death from Blue.

_Take your pick, kiddies._

Dice ran a hand over his head. He was sweating. No big surprises there.

He glanced down to his feet and there it was, the centerpiece of all his problems; the focus of all his misery ever since he had dropped Yuji and Marlene at the forest rim not far from Baikonur.

His empty five gallon gas container.

_How did I get here again? Oh yeah, I remember now…_

_I dropped Yuji and Marlene off, ran out of gas, stumbled upon a goat, met up with Elena's father, got kidnapped by Vladimir's boys, was sent to get power cells, held at gunpoint by Pa's group, spied on Agatha Dwiddle, caught Koal's shuttle to Second Earth, had sex with two women up there including Amick, crash landed in a Blue nest, got saved by two old folks, flew a blimp, got shot down, squared off with Roc (is that guy even human?), and ended up here with Romeo and Juliet and the girl whose heart Yuji broke._

Dice leaned against the wall. It vibrated. The Blue were getting closer. He figured the folks outside--Pa, Jordan, Vladimir, Agatha, Koal, Amick--were all too busy being mad at him--Dice--to notice that hordes of blood thirsty monsters were going to be upon them soon.

_Such,_ Dice thought, _is the human condition._

Quaid felt something in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a badly crumpled pack of smokes: the remains of the pack he had found on Koal's shuttle. The pack he had promised not to take a smoke from because the big guy upstairs supposedly was getting him 'out of this.'

He confidently pulled out one of the cigarettes and fumbled for matches. As he did, he felt a pang of guilt.

Dice glanced at the ceiling and complained, "The way I see it, you never really got me out of it, did you? So I'm going to have a smoke."

He ignored the confused stares coming from the others huddled in the room.

A large explosion coming from just outside the garage knocked Dice to the ground and sent the match spiraling away into a dark shadow.

Screams. Gun blasts.

And the roar of Blue.

_Well this is it,_ Dice thought. _Time to make that last stand…_


	13. The Last Stand of Dice Quaid

**13. The Last Stand of Dice Quaid**

The gunfire started.

As Dice hauled himself from the grimy garage floor, he heard bursts of automatic rifle fire and the buzz-saw like song of Roc's Jeep-mounted gattling gun. He heard shouts and yells and barked orders. He even heard--somehow or another above the rest of the ruckus--the baaa of a goat.

"No! Father!"

Elena ran toward the front door. Dice grabbed her.

"No, now missy, ain't nothing we can--"

The front wall of the garage--window, doorframe and all--crumbled inwards. Chunks of concrete and shards of glass exploded across what had once been the office.

Dice threw Elena to the ground and shielded her tiny frame with his own. He felt sharp splinters of debris pelt his back.

_Ouch, that smarts._

Sheen and Tommy, meanwhile, found their own shelter behind one of the metal desks.

The avalanche stopped. A cloud of debris filled the room. The ping, zing and pop of bullets and carbine fire carried inside the remaining three walls of the garage as a wind gusted through where the fourth wall had once stood.

Dice looked toward the front, squinting to see through the fog. A bullet ricocheted nearby. The mist was so thick he could barely see Elena who was right next to him on the floor.

"My--_cough_--my father! I have to go help him!"

The haze thinned enough that Dice could see a blob of light where the front wall had once. No, a blob of light _and_ a big shadow.  
A hiss turned into a roar. That roar came from the massive Spring Worm Blue, truck-sized and ugly with a vertical mouth, tusks, dead-red eyes, and millipede-like legs all along its long body.

It also had something else. A tail. A tail with a wrecking-ball like end.

"Oh, crap. Let's go kiddies! Out the back!"

Dice hustled his comrades toward the rear of the building, choosing to take his chances with Agatha and Roc's gattling gun rather than the hell-born creature seemingly made for no other purpose than to wipe man from the Earth.

He paused in his escape for two seconds, spending the first of those seconds to grab a long-ago discarded cloth from the floor and the latter of those two seconds to open the carrying case and retrieve the two vials from inside.

The Spring Worm ignored a series of gunshots that bounced off the back half of its tough hide and swung that tail about. It came down hard atop the garage, splintering the ceiling.

Dice, as he ran, wrapped the two vials in the cloth and stuffed them into his pocket. He raced out the rear door behind the other three just as that wrecking-ball-like tail finished its destructive blow.

The four refugees ran straight into the sights of Roc's gattling gun. The bandage-wrapped man stood in the rear of a Jeep. Agatha Dwiddle sat in the front. Captain Koal's shrike hovered nearby.

Dwiddle stood up and shook her fist at the foursome.

"Now you hand over that Super 2 right now or I'll have my man Roc cut the whole lot of you to…to…AAAAAAHHHH"

A shadow flickered over head. Roc's gun fired but not at the people.

A flying Man-Eater Blue swooped down from above. Bullets slammed into its armor plating but it still landed on the hood of Dwiddle's car.

"Grand mother!"

Dice could not believe that Sheena still worried about her grandmother, particularly after the lovely old lady had just threatened to kill them all. Nonetheless, Sheena broke free of Tommy's hold and bolted toward the car, the Blue, and Agatha.

Dice un-slung his rifle and gave chase.

The Blue had completely squashed the front of the Jeep. Roc, thrown clear during the collision, wobbled to his feet several yards behind, picking his butt off the dusty ground.

The Blue roared. It extended its jaw and reached for the screaming old drug lord. Captain Koal sat in the pilot's chair of his battle machine and did nothing, apparently comfortable to wait and see what might come of the engagement.

Dice shouted: "Hey! I said hey!"

He fired a burst of bullets at the ass-end of the Blue. Sheena stopped advancing, picked up a small rock, and tossed it at the creature.

The monster's attention was diverted from Dwiddle to Dice and Sheena.

Tommy yelled: "Sheena! Get out of there!"

_Yeah, don't worry about me, kid._

The flying Blue flapped its fibrous wings and swooped at Sheena. Dice was forced to hold his fire. It grasped the young chemist with one talon and made to fly off with its snack.

Roc ran, leapt onto the hood of the crushed Jeep, and jumped up at the flying-off Blue before it could gain any real altitude. He grabbed a free talon. The added weight and surprise of Roc's move tipped the Blue off-balance. It fell sideways into the ground, releasing Sheena as it rolled over.

Dice recognized the expression on the Blue's face as it righted itself.

What the freak? 

The monster regained its senses and stared down at Roc. It roared at the bandaged man. Roc screamed a grunt in response. The Blue lunged.

A rapid series of heavy-caliber rounds tore into the creature, first pushing it backwards then splattering its entire skull, core included.

Agatha Dwiddle stood at the rear of her destroyed Jeep, firing the gattling gun.

Captain Koal decided to join the fray.

"And now I'll take care of you, Dice!"

The Heavy-Duty mech raised its mechanical gun.

Another flying Blue dropped from the sky and rammed into the mech, sending it tumbling end over end. Dice--with no small measure of satisfaction--heard Koal's grunts of pain as he was bounced around the cockpit.

Roc approached Dice at a fast clip.

"Hey, now wait, I just helped save your--"

But Roc would hear none of it. The man grabbed Dice by both shoulders before Quaid could steady his rifle. Roc threw Dice to the side…barely avoiding the massive, gaping maw of a gigantic Blue Land Whale as it rose out from the ground like a shark leaping from the ocean.

Agatha Dwiddle fired again. The gattling gun ricocheted off the armor plating of the titanic monster.

Roc helped Dice to his feet and the two scampered off. Tommy threw an arm around Sheena and led her around toward the front of the half-destroyed gas station, but things sounded no better out there judging by the chaotic chorus of battle and horrid Blue shrieks.

Elena met up with Dice and Roc in the few seconds between the Land Whale's lunge and its realization that it had swallowed not prey but air.

Dwiddle continued to fire. Roc grunted and waved at her, urging the old woman to join them.

"I'm not afraid of one of these things! I'll show em what for!"

Agatha's bravado dissipated as the shadow of the mammoth creature wavered above her. The snake-like fifty-foot beast then slammed down toward the Jeep, using its head as a sledgehammer.

Agatha moved faster than any old lady has a right to move. With one hand holding the hem of her flowered dress, she leapt from the back of the vehicle just as the beast's batter hit home. What remained of the car was crunched into worthless sheet metal. The impact of the strike tossed Agatha first into the air and then to the ground.

Roc left Dice's side and ran for his matriarch. Dice steadied his rifle and pointed it toward the armor-sheathed foe but he felt as if he were a gnat squaring off with an elephant.

Roc grabbed Agatha's arm. The Land Whale reared its head above again, preparing to splatter the two with one smash. Dice squeezed the trigger. A burst of fire bounced off the hinged mouth of the beast. It turned its attention to Dice.

"Awe crap."

Dice turned and ran toward the broken gas station while the others made their escape around the side. The Land Whale dove into the dusty ground, kicking off a plume of dirt that resembled a geyser.

He pumped his legs and arms while one hand still held the rifle. He raced in the open rear door and across the pile of rubble that littered the office floor. Dice figured the Spring Warm that had smashed down the wall would be long gone, considering the battle raging at the front of the garage between Blue and humans.

Dice was wrong.

The hideous creature still lingered at the front of the building as if admiring its own destructive handiwork. Its beady eyes found Dice as the meal-on-legs raced toward the Blue's sideways mouth.

It roared. Maybe laughed, even.

Dice darted to his right, bounding over a fallen crossbeam and headed for the garage bay.

The Land Whale pursued like a shark swimming through water but, in this case, that water was the ground. It created a mound like a ground hog as it tunneled. That mound collided with the lingering Spring Worm.

Blue, Dice had long ago realized, were efficient hunters of humans but failed to impress on the IQ tests. Therefore, each Blue became angered at the other over the collision. The Land Whale smashed upwards from underneath, lifting and throwing the Spring Worm. The Worm, for its part, retaliated with a swing of its massive wrecking-ball tail.

Dice knew the spat would not last long, but it did last long _enough_ for him to cut through the garage bay and exit out to the front of the garage.

Quaid stopped so fast that he nearly tumbled over.

A battle royal raged in front of the crumbled service station.

Pa's Grapple wrestled with a Tank Beetle while the Heavy Duty Shrike fired round after round of poorly-aimed shots at dive-bombing flying Man-Eaters.

Elena's father--Jordan--and his followers hid among the boulders on one of the surrounding hillsides while fighting off a trio of Blue Choppers. The cockroach-ish things advanced with their long, scythe-like mandibles swatting toward Jordan's vagabonds, who answered with rifle fire. Unfortunately, the old man might have been much more than his daughter suspected, but he and his followers still were not very good shots.

Vladimir's troop did no better. They had ringed their trucks like settlers circling the wagons in the face of an Indian onslaught. Vlad's boys fired small and heavy arms, beating back several Choppers and land-based Man-Eaters. However, first one then a second flying Blue swept in and decapitated two henchmen.

Amick did the best. Apparently she had come on this particular mission all on her own, figuring that her fancy new double-bladed Shrike could handle the fugitive Dice Quaid. She appeared to be correct.

He watched with his jaw open in awe over her fighting abilities. The Double Edge mech rolled to one side and sliced clean-open a Tanker all while firing its main gun at a threatening chopper. Both of the monsters fell but three more rushed at the fancy war machine.

Amick skewered a Chopper and blasted dead the Spring Worm from the garage as it escaped from its tussle with the Land Whale. However, an armor-encased Tanker Beetle rammed Amick from behind.

Dice could not comprehend why, but he raced toward Amick's imperiled ride with his gun blazing. As he closed the distance, he saw warning lights flashing in her cockpit as the monster pushed the mech to the ground and stomped. Even the deadly blades of the Shrike could not stop the assault.

One of his rounds--perhaps one of the luckiest shots he had fired in all his life--found the core of the Tanker. But Dice's rescue came a second too late for the fancy Shrike. The metallic warrior's power core ruptured. Ripples of electric energy and plasma flickered around its metal legs and torso.

"Amick! Get clear!"

Dice took a step forward--and was sent flying as the ground beneath him erupted upwards. The Land Whale had returned.

He landed with a heavy thud on his back; all wind was pushed from his lungs. Dice gasped for breath as he lay temporarily paralyzed on the pebble and debris covered ground.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Elena help Amick from the Shrike. The damaged war fighter had fallen between the daughter and her father's position. Nonetheless, Dice thought it nice that the last thing he would see in his life would be a groundling saving Amick's pompous ass. He hoped Amick lived long enough to let that one sink in.

Dice ran out of time. The Land Whale pushed all the way out from the ground and hovered overhead like a snake dancing out of a basket to a piper's flute.

"Christ. I shoulda had that smoke."

BAM!

BAM!

Two heavy shells from the Heavy Duty shrike fighting for Pa hammered into the thick skull of the Land Whale.

"You git him good, Billy! Shoot dat darn ding again!"

The shots impressed the creature, but failed to cause mortal harm. Nonetheless, the Land Whale once again demonstrated that Blue were attracted to the strongest prey first: another one of their traits that went against the usual order of things.

In this case, the strongest prey became the gun toting but half-damaged Shrike piloted by Pa's boy, Billy. The Land Whale charged.

"Get runnin' outta there, Billy!"

Dice found breath again, collected his rifle, and staggered to his feet. A Chopper Blue nearly knocked him over as it rushed past, apparently intent on joining the assault up the hill where Jordan's goat herders battled a small swarm.

A flying Blue dropped from the sky and exploded in gore and dust into the junkyard of cars to the side of the station. It had been knocked down by Vladimir's rocket launcher.

Dice stood in the middle of the battle, as if he were a statue standing in the eye of a hurricane.

Blue guts and human blood soaked the ground; a thin haze from fired shells drifted across the bowl-like canyon; screams and roars and explosion bellowed into his ears; the ground shook from blasts and Blue footfalls.

Pa's Heavy Duty armored Shrike was sent end-over-end by the Land Whale. Its gun fell out of its mechanical hand and slid across the ground coming to a stop…at Roc's feet.

The Grapple--badly damaged and leaking both steam and fluid--tried to take hold of the Land Whale, which was a Blue very similar to the kind that had killed Dice's one true love but much, much larger.

The Grapple stood no chance but it bought time for Billy to get clear of the wrecked Heavy Duty. Then the Gapple itself was thrown. It fell with a _clang_ to the ground and lay motionless. The Land Whale moved off in search of other prey but two Blue Tank Beetles closed in on the helpless machine.

Dice opened fire on the mammoths and charged forward. Pa's group had just saved his ass; he needed to return the favor.

"Get away from that guy!"

BLAM! BLAM!

Three shots ate away the outer shell of the first beast and the fourth round hit the core. The second Tanker rammed the prone Grapple yet again. The machine exploded killing the occupant and completely destroying the Shrike.

"Damn you!"

Dice did not know why he felt so angry. Lots of people had already died. Many more would die soon, probably even himself. Yet he had been trying to save that pilot. That made Dice angry. That made Dice sad, too. Why should he care?

_Because that guy was a human being, like me. _

Dice continued to fire at the tanker but could not get a clean shot at the beast. It bore down on him.

Quaid heard a welcome sound: the whir of an Armored Shrike. Captain Koal had returned. His machine appeared badly dented but it remained in tact; the main gun looked ready to fire.

"Koal! Blast this thing!"

"And why should I do that? If it doesn't kill you, I will!"

Apparently the smuggler had not gotten with the spirit of the times.

The ferocious beast galloped directly for Diced, intent on rolling the puny human into a dumpling.

Dice ran…behind Koal's Shrike.

"What? Get out of there! You fool!"

The Tanker rammed the machine and sent it flying, this time damaging the mech beyond repair. With the mech tossed aside, the Blue gave Dice its full attention yet again. This time Quaid's rifle fire found its mark, killing the beast.

Koal, meanwhile, crawled out from his destroyed ride. Dice gave serious consideration to shooting the man dead but, instead, responded to a cry for help.

Elena and Amick were cornered by a Chopper. Amick pulled a handgun and fired but the creature did not stop. It thrust its mandibles at the Second Earther. She dodged by dropping and rolling away, but the move only provided a short reprieve.

Elena threw a rock at the creature as if trying to divert its attention from Amick.

_That's two you owe her, Amick_.

But to no avail.

Dice opened up on full automatic, littering the creature's body with bullets. The pain forced it to reconsider its prey. The Blue turned and faced Dice.

"Show me your core, you sonofabitch!"

_Click._

"Awe Christ."

The Chopper charged forward.

BLAM!

An explosive shell tore away the whole face of the Blue, splattering Dice with gore but leaving him in one piece.

Quaid turned around and saw his savior. It was Roc, holding a massive Shrike gun that no human being had any right to be capable of holding.

"Hey, thanks, Pal."

Roc grunted and flashed a thumbs up.

Dice waved in thanks but quickly changed to a different kind of wave.

"Look out!"

A geyser from the Land Whale threw the remains of the Heavy Duty Shrike high into the air. Roc moved just in time to avoid the falling metal carcass. The Land Whale swam through the ground, knocking Pa's troops off their feet and then throwing Roc himself a dozen feet into the air.

Dice saw the creature's target: Sheena and Tommy had taken refuge among the ruins of the garage. The kid held a rifle but appeared unsure from which end came the bullets.

Instead of seeing weakness in Tommy's lack of combat training, Dice saw truth. The truth that teenage boys should not need to know how to fight wars or defend against monsters. They should be going to school, listening to music, and dancing at the prom. It wasn't right. None of this was right. How dare the Blue rob Tommy and Sheena of their best years? How dare the Blue turn children into soldiers.

As he watched the two young lovers cower in fear, Dice saw visions of himself and his true love; then he saw the image of Yuji and Marlene. He saw hope for the future of mankind on the verge of being slaughtered.

_No._

Quaid reloaded his last ammunition clip into the rifle and ran toward the ruins, weaving between the large boulders littering the front lot as he raced the burrowing Land Whale.

It exploded out from the ground and roared its big Blue head, then spat a ball of rock at the teenagers. Sheena pulled Tommy away just as the ball of stone slammed into one of the few slabs of still-standing garage wall.

Quaid stood between the towering monstrosity and the two kids.

"No more!" He roared and narrowed his eyes at the metal-plated beast.

"Not one more goddamn inch to you things! No more! I stand right here! You have to get through me you BASTARD!"

The bullets spat from his rifle as Dice Quaid made his last stand for humanity. Muzzle flashes became a constant torrent of fire. Dice growled as he shot one bullet after another. But the slugs could not penetrate the steel skin of the Land Whale. The shots bounced off, causing little more than pinpricks to the titan.

The rifle ran out of bullets. Dice was left standing between the gigantic creature and the kids with nothing more than his anger and…and…

Dice pulled the cloth from his pocket.

The Blue opened its mouth and yelled so loud that the ground shook!

Dice yelled nearly as loud: "You want something to eat? Eat this!"

Dice lobbed the vial of Super 2 Designer heroin into the open mouth of the monster.

The gargantuan was taken by surprise by something so small and so seemingly harmless. It wavered in the air for a moment, seemingly distracted by a strange taste in its mouth.

"You fed it heroin?" Sheena shouted in shock.

Dice shrugged.

"Ain't got no bullets left, missy. But the way I see it…that's enough concentrated hallucinogenic drug for half of Second Earth and maybe--"

The Land Whale roared again…then whimpered…then swung side to side…then dove into the ground disappearing beneath.

The battlefield rumbled. Even the two remaining Choppers attacking Vladimir's men paused.

The Land Whale burst out of the ground between those two Chopper Blue, sending them flying into the air and landing on their backs. Vladimir's remaining henchmen easily dispatched the helpless bugs that were trapped on their backs like turtles.

The Land Whale collapsed in one last roar. Its body fell slumped across one of the boulders lying about. The impact of the dead weight hitting sent an earthquake across the field.

While a line of Blue Choppers still marched on Jordan's nomads on the far hillside, the rest of the human contingent found that the Blue had been vanquished. A spontaneous round of cheers rippled across Vladimir's men, Pa's group, Roc, Agatha, and Dice himself.

Dice took advantage of the good spirits: "Hey! Let's finish the job!"

Quaid led them toward the mountain where Jordan's goat herders fought off four more Choppers. Dice had to hold Elena back as Vladimir's group opened fire and Pa's family circled up the mountain to pinch the Blue in.

Roc himself--re-armed with an assault rifle--charged the slope and personally put the last round into the last Chopper.

Another round of cheers.

Blue bodies and goat carcasses littered the hillside. The Land Whale lay draped over a boulder; several once-flying but now-dead Man Eaters lay scattered about; a Tanker carcass was propped against the burned out fuel truck.

But when the cheers ended, an unsettling silence fell over the combatants. Slowly, one by one, they began to realize what had brought them there in the first place.

Vladimir began to eye Jordan; Pa cast a stern look toward Agatha; Tommy and Sheena shrank into one another's arms as if anticipating a storm of words or bullets. Elena ran to her father…and punched him in the arm.

"Elena…"

"Don't 'Elena' me, you drug runner!"

Dice slowly, quietly walked down the hillside and returned toward the ruined station. He found his gas container sitting next to a chunk of concrete.

He grabbed the can and trotted over to the pumps. As he did, he noticed the mass of humanity strolling down the hillside and crossing the open lot toward him.

The gas pumps worked. The first piece of good luck for Dice in quite some time. He began to whistle nervously as a crowd gathered around. A crowd with their eyes locked on him.

_Glunk, glunck, glunk_ the gas container filled.

Dice tried to look anywhere but at the crowd. He saw that all the Shrikes had been smashed into metal shards and most of the vehicles were long dead, too. Furthermore, the horses had been chewed up and only two of Jordan's goats remained; apparently the Blue had been rather hungry.

Dice could ignore them no more.

"What?"

Vladimir spoke first: "You owe me power cells."

Agatha jumped: "You fed my drug to that Blue! You know how much that thing is worth?"

Pa jumped on Agatha: "Hey, now, hear this woman, you give us that corn seed. You ain't got no right to be making us starve."

Roc grunted.

Elena slapped Vladimir across the cheek: "How dare you kidnap me like that!"

The accusations became cross talk. The former enemies that had joined together to beat the Blue became enemies again. Gunplay appeared ready to break out.

Dice, his container filled, had had enough.

"STOP IT!"

The arguments ceased.

Dice lectured.

"Look at yourselves. Look!"

They exchanged cautious glances.

"Drugs, kidnapping, smuggling…is this all that's left of the human race?"

Vladimir protested, "We must do what we can to survive, Mr. Dice."

Quaid wagged a finger first at Vladimir then at Agatha.

"Selling drugs to survive? Look at you two. You, Vladimir, and you, Agatha, I mean the two of you got the brains to run organizations and you waste it on drug running? When our people are about ready to be extinct?"

"Now listen hear, sonny--"

"No, you listen! Take a look around, folks. Yeah, that's right. Look each other in the eye. You might be all that's left, hear me? The Blue came here to wipe us off this god-forsaken planet and here you are--the only survivors I've seen in a long while--and you don't need the Blue to do it! You're doing it to each other, see? How stupid is that?"

Elena's father, red cheek and all, tried to break in using his fatherly voice.

"It is not so simple. Survival is a complicated matter."

"You are wrong," Dice countered. "It's not complicated. It is simple. It's the most simple thing, like, there is, see? It's about getting food and water, about taking care of each other, about fending off the Blue when they come calling. It's not about drugs. There's no money to be made here. The only barter that's worth a damn is what you can do to keep the human race alive."

Dice walked over to Tommy and Sheena. The couple held on to each other tightly.

"Look at these two," Dice went on. "This is the next generation, see? But there won't be a next generation if you folks keep fighting with each other."

Sheena whispered, "He's right, grandmother."

"Oh now hush up, honey."

Dice burst, "You hush up! Your grand daughter knows more about what's going on here than you do. Look at Roc over here."

He walked over to the bandage-covered man.

"I don't know about you people, but I've never seen anyone who can fight like this guy."

Roc grunted. It may have been a grunt of pride or thanks.

"Point being, Agatha, you've got him acting as some kind of mob enforcer when I fellow like this could keep a whole town of people safe. You telling me Roc here ain't worth more than being hired muscle?"

Roc grunted again. This time it was a question grunt. Maybe.

Agatha, somewhat unnerved, answered, "Well, Roc here isn't exactly the smartest tool in the shed. No offense, honey."

Roc grunted once more. There may have been the slightest amount of offense in that grunt.

Dice responded, "That's what people like you and Vlad here are for. You two have got the know-how. But instead of using it for the good of all people, you're worried about selling drugs?"

Quaid looked at Vladimir and pushed what he figured would be an effective button.

"How small time. How _small minded."_

Vladimir: "What? You should not speak to me in such a manner."

"How should I speak to the man who would let the whole human race die off just because he wants to make some kind of profit selling contraband? Don't you want to see your son grow up and live a happy life? Don't you want grand children?"

That got Vladimir's attention. His eyes widened. He mulled: "Grandchildren? Hmmm…grandchildren…yes…"

Pa broke in; "None of this talk is good for anything unless we can eat! Man can't live on bread alone."

Dice ignored Pa's contradiction and pointed everyone's attention at Sheena. He also pulled the second vial from his pocket as he spoke.

"You see this little missy over here? This here is one ace chemist. She's made this special corn seed stuff that could turn some of this wasteland into fields of food."

Agatha jumped, "Well, Mr. Dice, maybe you should tell everyone how you burned down the laboratory at my place."

Pa, seemingly hypnotized by the sight of the corn seed, offered before anyone else could react: "Lab stuff? Oh, now my boys can find plenty more of that type of stuff. Why, the lands out there are like a gold mine if you know where to look."

Dice figured that if anyone could find the pieces to build a new chemical lab, Pa could.

"See, now, there you go. Pa can find the stuff, Sheena can work it all out. Besides, you saw what that Super 2 did to that Blue, didn't you? I think Sheena here has got herself a new Blue weapon of a kind."

Elena's voice added: "And our goats! My father can give up his filthy job as a poppy farmer and do what my people do best, raise cattle! We'll have plenty to eat!"

Vladimir, still somewhat dazed by the whole grandchildren thing, said, "There is room on my estate for such a place. There is even grazing lands not far from us and plenty of land for the corn, I would think. Yes. Yes I can see it so clearly."

"That's because you're a planner," Dice put an arm on Vlad's shoulder. "You and Agatha can see the big picture. So now you can make that big picture work out for all of you. Why, you'll all be one big happy family! I tell you, it will all work out in the end!"

Dice saw his work was done. The members of the different groups began to speak amongst themselves. They smiled and shook hands. Vladimir even threw an arm around his soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

_Well ain't this just sweet._

The group moved slowly toward what remained of Vladimir's trucks and began to pile in, the two last goats and all.

Dice smiled and picked up his full gas container. He had finally done something worth while. He had finally made a difference.

Not all the crowd wandered off. Two stayed behind.

Amick Hendar stood across from Quaid with a handgun pointing directly at Dice. Captain Koal, the little weasel, hovered at her side and eyed Dice with contempt.

Dice's smile faded.

Amick spoke: "How very touching, Dice. The groundlings can go and make more little groundlings for the Blue to eat. But that still leaves one little problem. You've caused me and Second Earth a lot of trouble. Someone has to pay, Dice, and I guarantee you it won't be me."

He suddenly realized how all alone he was, for the only group of people on the planet who might come to his rescue were already driving off into the distance.

Dice had nothing left. Nothing at all.

Well, one thing.

He narrowed his eyes, titled his head, and offered half a smile.

"Amick…_baby…"_

At first, she appeared unfazed by the gesture.

Then Amick swung the gun around and shot Captain Koal in the temple. The smuggler fell to the ground like a sack of dirty laundry.

Amick returned her attention to Dice and smiled…a little.

"I guess you were right, Dice. Everything does work out in the end."

She swiveled about with her typical military precision and marched back to her air ship. Quaid watched the vessel power up and fly away, no doubt en route to a spaceport where Amick Hendar would return to Second Earth to get on with the business of fighting the Blue.

_That woman ain't ever gunna give up._

Dice took a big, deep breath. He felt very pleased with himself. Not only had he helped build a brand new human community that had half-a-chance at surviving the whole Blue apocalypse, but he had finally filled that damn gas container.

He could not help but smile. He had finally done something right. Maybe his luck had finally changed.

Dice surveyed the area around him. He saw dead Blue, dead humans, crushed cars and destroyed Shrike parts. A lonely wind blew across the vacant scene throwing dust particles into the air. Not a soul moved. Nothing but worthless ruins as far as he could see.

He set the container full of useless gas onto the ground beside him and scratched his head.

"Hey…now where's my car?"

**THE END**

January 2, 2006


End file.
